


Bad Luck Boy

by GeorgeCantWrite



Series: Ethan Dolori and the Various Ways [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Carl Grimes Lives, Child Abuse, Deaf Character, Dysphoria, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Non-consensual surgery, Queer Themes, References to Depression, Slurs, Surgery, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 18:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 153,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgeCantWrite/pseuds/GeorgeCantWrite
Summary: For as long as he could remember, Ethan had to look out for Eli. Now Ethan had to find him, whether he was dead or alive. There was nothing that could stop him from finding his baby brother.





	1. Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of finishing off other fics, I'm here publishing another one. Rated Mature because it's The Walking Dead and shit is never nice. Enjoy!

Ethan was worried. There was barely any time where he wasn’t. But his brother was missing, and in the apocalypse, that wasn’t good.

“Eli!” he yelled, eyes feeling like they were spinning as he turned in circles, trying to find the young boy, hoping he’d just gone into the woods to pee. This wasn’t good.

He was always the one to look after Eli, make sure he ate, kept some kind of hygiene, always had the first and last of the water and made sure he knew what to do if shit hit the fan. Ethan never really taught himself how to cope if he himself was in that kind of situation. He’d woken to an empty car, Eli’s small amount of possessions missing, and most of their food supply gone. So he wasn’t really having the best luck to start the day off with.

“Shit,” muttered Ethan, looking around a final time, saw some tyre marks that hadn’t been there the day before, and then he started running down the road, feeling aware of the dead that was coming down on him; he needed to get out of there as soon as possible, but he had to stay in the easiest line of sight that Eli would spot him from, so down the road he ran.

The sun was particularly brutal, with no clouds in the sky, it bore down on Ethan, making him sweat and burn as he continued to run, he didn’t know what else to do, and he needed to get somewhere out of the sun before he got sunstroke or got killed by the walkers, which, were still on his tail. Though not at an alarming rate, the herd was steadily getting bigger with each passing hour.

He didn’t particularly want to die today, he did want to see his brother again, so that took priority over wanting to kill himself. He just hoped his body wouldn’t make him feel like shit again and make him lose some days. He needed to find whoever took his brother, cos the boy was ten years old and sure as shit couldn’t hotwire a car (mainly because Ethan hadn’t yet taught him how to do it).

So, realistically, there was only one other person that could have gotten his brother. Negan.

Ethan hated the Saviors. They’d nearly killed him and Eli, and they’d barely gotten away, and had spent so many days running from them, unsure of just how long they had been trying to run away from them. But they always found them. Ethan knew that if he wanted to get his brother back, he’d have to run right back into them, and kill every single one of them to get to Eli.

Eli was the one thing that Ethan cared about, the one thing that kept him going. He was getting his brother back.

But first – he had to take care of the herd that was trailing him.

He turned back around and heaved a sigh, trying to get his breathing back down to normal as he walked backwards, hand slipping into his backpack to get the water bottle he had, and drunk nearly half the contents. As he put it away, he slipped his knife out of its holster with his dominant – right – hand, then twisted it around, testing it against the fingerless leather gloves he’d found the previous day. He slid off his backpack and dropped it against the little brick bridge wall and waited for the first one to approach.

His knife sunk between its eyes and he pushed it back onto two walkers that had crept up behind it. He then turned to the others on the other side of it and got his other knife out and hit them both through the ears at the same time, quickly crouching down to get the two the first had landed on. Five down, another twenty to go. He was going to get through this.

Most of them were thin things, so that meant he could duck under their thin arms without much hassle, if any. It also allowed him to knock them down and step around them without too much danger. He knocked down another six before he retreated. Two he had broken the legs of, so were crawling on the ground towards him, which he quickly put a stop to with his boots. He was thankful he had found the safety boots a while ago, especially since they were steel toe capped.

As he got his breathing back to a substantial level, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, despite how sweaty he was, and he knew he was being watched.

“Come at me, bitches,” he said, not quite knowing who he was talking to. He moved forwards and kicked the knee of a particularly fat zombie and sent it sprawling downwards, its chin meeting his knife that he quickly yanked back out to slam into the nose of another walker that had gotten a little close.

Now there were just five more to get. Sighing through his nose, he backed up a little more, glancing back to make sure he wasn’t being flanked, before he attacked it. He grabbed it by the neck and pulled it forwards, the knife sinking into the rotten flesh of its forehead before he pushed it back into one of the others, knocking it back under the dead weight. Ethan turned and moved to the other side of the road, flicking his bloodied knife in his hand before he held it by the blade and threw it. Although it wasn’t a throwing knife, it hit its mark, which collapsed. He raced forwards and grabbed the knife before the walker slumped forwards and buried the knife inside its head completely, and sent it in the last standing one’s direction, then slid a little on his feet as he lowered himself to stab the last one that had been on the floor.

He was glad for the silence. Ethan stood back up, wiped the blades on his dirty trousers, and grabbed his backpack and slung it on one shoulder. That’s when he heard a rustle of leaves, that were louder than what they probably should’ve been. It wasn’t the same kind that came from when walkers brushed against them, and he’d long since learnt to tell the difference between humans and walkers, and that was definitely human. Even with his slightly deteriorating hearing, he had heard the difference; he’d had to try and learn the difference without aids, so even with the help of them now, he could hear just how loud it had been.

It felt as if his heart had flung itself into his throat, and he pulled his arm through the other strap of the backpack and pulled it close to his back, felt it push against the gun hidden away in the small of his back ( _safety’s on, safety’s on_ ). He had wasted most of his energy on the herd, so his chances of outrunning this person was not in his favour; especially since now there was a silence. The other person knew they’d made a mistake.

Ethan kept his face hidden by his hair – he needed to cut it a little, but it wasn’t all the way down his neck, but certainly stuck to it. He had to anticipate an attack, or a possibility of being flanked by more that just one person. But he knew it couldn’t be the Saviors. They were sloppier than this person, or persons. The Saviors were cocky, and weren’t the best kinds of hunters, but they got the job done. No, this person was quiet, far too quiet.

Not knowing what to do, Ethan started walking.

His steps were careful, even, though he felt terribly unbalanced and scared. Though, he tried to think back to a time where he didn’t feel unbalanced and scared. He couldn’t bring up a memory. As he continued to walk, the road begun to open up, coming into a small town that he could try and scavenge. He was running low on food, so anything would be good to keep him sustained as he tried to find his brother.

Admittedly, he wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, and had long since lost the tracks of the car, but he supposed that if his theory was correct about the Saviors, then there was a long trek ahead of him. As Ethan neared the closest shop, he begun to regret his decision. The person from earlier was still on his tail; his only chance of sneaking away could be to lose the person when he went into the shop and hope he could avoid them seeing him leave.

He made a grumbling noise that he had tried to make as a coherent sentence, gripping his knife tightly as he peered inside the shop’s windows, unable to see anything moving. He knocked on the glass sharply and quickly and strained his shitty hearing, but since his aids weren’t quite the best, he had to venture inside with the risk of the undead coming his way. He’d just managed twenty, he could manage some inside the dark, scary shop. Maybe.

He went down each aisle, pulling anything and everything from the shelves, stuffing them into his backpack that had been feeling lighter than he had hoped. He grabbed everything sanitary wise, grabbed all the bottles he could see – water or other, and all the tinned and packaged food he hoped was at least a little out of its expiry date. Then he heard something near the front of the shop – and he was right at the back of it, so this was either an advantage or disadvantage to him, and he sincerely hoped for it to be the former.

Ethan grabbed the last of the items on the shelf closest to him and quietly zipped his backpack shut and slung it back onto his back, gripping his knife tightly as he anticipated an attack. Which did not come. He heard someone walking carefully, avoiding the broken items and glass on the floor, but it wasn’t a walker’s shuffle, so he could get rid of them from the equation for the moment. He had to keep in mind that walkers could always come in and compromise everything.

The person was approaching, and Ethan was surprised to see a flash from a torch before he ducked behind the counter and pressed himself against it, backpack pressing into his back painfully. He pressed a hand over his mouth and nose, the leather scent a little comforting, trying to make no sound as the light flashed over the countertop, across to the shelves pressed to the wall.

“Shit, he must’ve gone out through the back.” It was a man. The man swore again before he came around the counter and left through the staff only door, which had been slightly ajar, unaware of the hidden boy.

Now Ethan didn’t know what to do. He could stay there, hidden away in the shadows, but if the man came back, he’d be spotted. But if he left, and went out through the front, the man could always come back around that way, or have someone outside blocking the entrance off. He wasn’t sure what to do. There was only way to find out.

After a split second decision, Ethan decided to go after the man, follow him and see if he regrouped with anyone. He was out the door before he could think otherwise.

_This is stupid, this is stupid, what am I doing?_ Ethan thought to himself, hiding behind a dumpster, peeking around the edge of it. The man had his back facing him, but he was holding a gun in one hand and a radio in the other. Even though he wasn’t facing Ethan, he saw the tension running through the man’s body, the way the vein beneath the white skin pulsated. The man had nice, sort of curly hair, he thought absently.

“Lost him,” the man said into the radio. “I think he knew we were following him, went in there to get us to lose him.”

The radio crackled before another male answered. _“Don’t worry yourself, Aaron. If we need to, we’ll find him again. Until then, we can search for some other people or groups. Don’t beat yourself up over it. The kid is clearly smart, so maybe we see him next time and approach him upfront? Come on, let’s go.”_

Before the man, Aaron, had managed to turn around, Ethan had already made his escape into the woods on the left, hiding behind a large bush. The boy watched as the man walked back around the shop, towards where a car was slowly pulling up, the driver assumedly being the man on the radio. He continued to watch as they spoke, then briefly embraced each other within the car, spotted the man’s face and tried to memorise it before they drove off.

Ethan wasn’t sure how to feel after that.

 

* * *

 

 

The nights that passed were lonesome. Ethan had found himself a small cottage of sorts to hole up in whilst he got his bearings. He was still near Washington, which meant he was still near the Saviors, close to millions of walkers in the city. But he could be close to his brother, Eli, if he went closer. He had to.

He’d found a map a few days prior of Washington, had circled out where the Sanctuary was, and pencilled in the different ways he could get there, scribbling over the areas he had last seen were overrun with the dead. Other places, he knew were burnt to the ground, buildings having collapsed in on themselves during the years of the apocalypse. Ethan found it hard to believe that it had been so long. He had been twelve at the time, Eli only five. He tried not to think of how different they both were now.

He had to take a step away from the map, to compose himself because he’d heard his father berate his uncle for crying ( _‘boys don’t cry, asshole, pull yourself together, you’re being fucking stupid!’_ ), and he could hear his father’s words change and direct themselves at him. He would not let himself weaken; he had a brother to find and he’d make sure his brother was with him before he cried – from relief or despair, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Just thinking about his father sobered him up enough to rub at his eyes angrily and squint at the map, trying to see if there were any routes he had missed.

There was one thing that Ethan didn’t have, and that was an opportunity. He had to make sure that he had covered any and every possible way in with the least amount of dead near him. If he was going to do this, he had to know the safest routes that he could take Eli back through. There was so much that he needed to do, and he wasn’t sure what the first thing was. It was at times like these that Ethan wished he had a group that he could talk to, bounce ideas off and figure out ways with more people, find safer alternate ways to find his brother.

But he was on his own, and all he had was himself.

The cottage he had found had a few cans of food left, and even had bottled water, which had been better than what Ethan had been expecting. He’d blocked the windows and barricaded the front and only exit to the cottage. He didn’t dare use the fireplace in case the smoke caught unwanted attention and slept beneath the mouldy bedding for a few hours at a time, the tension so prominent that it hurt his back. He didn’t want to, but he removed the hearing aids from his ears, although he could hear without them, his hearing fell below what the limit was.

The few hours that he did sleep, they were fitful and nightmare ridden, of Eli being a walker, being mutilated on the ground, of him crying for Ethan, who didn’t know what to do. To Eli, Ethan knew everything, how to take everything in stride and get out of situations that were deemed impossible to run from, so how had they still managed to get separated by the Saviors?

Ethan was thankful that he didn’t scream in his sleep; he’d have the dead down on him before he could grab a knife. He knew Eli sometimes cried in his sleep – not loud, but not quiet, just enough to break Ethan’s heart and make him wake him up so that he could cry into the older boy’s chest, mumbling something that Ethan couldn’t make out, but reassure nonetheless. When the sun would rise in the morning, Ethan would coax his younger brother out of his shell and help him feel better, make things appear to be not as bad as they really were.

He knew he was kidding himself and his brother with those words, but he made sure they both knew the world wasn’t truly safe, that there were dangers like the Saviors and that they would probably never find somewhere safe ever again, so they had to keep fighting until their last day, until their last breath. It was a grim thought but knowing there was nothing to do but either give up or fight made them fight a little harder than what may have been anticipated.

On the last night that he stayed in the cottage, there was a storm outside. The air came down through the fireplace all biting and harsh on his face and revealed flesh. He hid his face in the pillow, trying to ignore the smell that burned his nose and made his eyes water, because he would move on in the morning, make his way closer to Washington and get closer to Eli.

Eli was all that mattered. No Eli, no Ethan.

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if when he found Eli, he was dead. He’d bury him, but after that, he didn’t know what he would do, where he would go, or how he would survive. He buried the thought and tried to sleep.

The howling wind and rain kept him awake, as did the creaking of trees shifting, their roots upturning in the storm.

He wasn’t sure if he managed to get any sleep, but then again, Ethan wasn’t sure about many things.


	2. Surprise Attacks

Ethan left the cottage after staying for what felt like several weeks. His body ached to be back in the bed, but he had to leave. During the night, he was sure he’d heard several trees get uprooted. He was sure it would take him most of the morning to get out of the forest.

It didn’t take him all that long to pack away his belongings into his bag, and then he was climbing over the fallen trees, slipping every so often on the muddy ground, hoping to God that his feet wouldn’t get wet, but supposed that was inevitable. He just had to make sure he found somewhere relatively safe so that he could dry off his shoes, socks and feet so that he didn’t hurt the skin there.

The map was placed in one of the many pockets of his trousers, hidden away securely, but able to get at a moment’s notice. The sun was steadily rising nearby, giving him light to lead his way through the forest towards the nearest paths or roads. There were many walkers that he came across, most of which were stuck in the branches of fallen trees, or otherwise trapped under them. He killed each one, making sure they were dead before he moved on; he didn’t want any to follow him.

However, he couldn’t help but feel like he was constantly on edge – more so than usual. He knew it was because of the man he had seen not too long ago, but he felt as if he was still in the area. So Ethan got out of the area as soon as possible, finding an old bicycle and pedalled his way down to Route 16, a way he knew was more or less clear of walkers.

What he hadn’t expected was to see a man on one of the roads that diverge from the route.

The landmark he had chosen to go by was the water tower. It was something he had climbed before when he had entered Washington the first time, and it only felt right that he go and climb it again as the sun begun to set.

On his perch, he was just able to see the man, and if he kept low, then the man wouldn’t be able to see him. He supposed this could work for as long as it needed to. He tried not to think about how dangerous it was, that he was so close to someone, and if he was right, then he could have more people being brought to him. The thought got shaken out of his head quickly, he had to stay calm and collected on his mission – no time to panic.

Soon enough, the night got darker and Ethan stayed atop the water tower, watching the walkers roam over the road. The flare had gone up not too long ago and Ethan hadn’t a clue as to what he should do. But he didn’t have to wait long, as an RV had arrived once the walkers had dispersed and the man had been helped from being underneath a car, which had crushed his ankle by the looks and sound of things. There had been several people who got out of the RV, and it made Ethan’s stomach uneasy.

This had to be the most people he had been near for months.

It was hard to discern what they looked like, the darkness obscuring them from his vision. He had been slowly going through one of the tinned foods he had found, trying to make it last before he went to sleep, but couldn’t help but find his interest was piqued in what he saw below him.

Those people were helping the man. It wasn’t something Ethan thought he’d ever expect again.

To say it piqued his curiosity was an understatement; though by no means had it meant that he would go down and see those people too. He had too big of a guard up to interact with strangers, especially with how many there were that could so easily overpower him – he might have strength from using the bow he had before he’d had to leave the Saviors, but they looked far stronger than him. Ethan continued to watch as some of them went inside with the injured man whilst some of the others stood watch; either they anticipated walkers or were waiting for some more of their people because Ethan thought the building they were in was secure enough to keep watch from inside.

The latter was proven to be correct. Four more people appeared, the man on watch whistled to their call, and one from the four started shouting a name, “Eric!” continuously before he ran inside, and it took a moment for Ethan to recognise the man’s voice. It was the Aaron guy from all those weeks ago. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but then again, he hadn’t been expecting the apocalypse, so the world was full of surprises, right?

One of the men had a crossbow, Ethan could see its silhouette on the man. On instinct, he made himself smaller, to make sure he couldn’t see him from his little perch. He could’ve sworn he saw the man glance up over at him at least once, maybe twice. It was enough to make him paranoid.

 

* * *

 

 

The group had gone by morning. He’d been lucky enough to be awake to see them all. Ethan spotted six white guys, three white women, a white kid that might’ve been around Ethan’s age, an older black boy, two black women, a bald black man in a priest outfit, a Spanish woman, a Korean guy (Ethan half smiled, remembering his mother), and a _baby_.

“Holy fucktrucks,” he said under his breath, unable to take his eyes off the child. He hadn’t seen a living, breathing baby since the start, and the only other babies he’d seen were better off not being mentioned. “Eli would be losing his shit right now,” he said, then felt his chest do a strange, painful jolt at the mention of his younger brother.

He could remember when Eli had been born. His mother had been hysteric, waking everyone up with the labour pains, shouting in Korean about how painful it was (only Ethan understood what she was saying, since his father never understood it, had never bothered to learn it), and had woken Ethan up from his binge watch of his favourite TV show back then. She’d yelled herself hoarse at Ethan’s father, in a mix of all the languages she knew, until he finally caught on and took them all to the hospital.

It was also one of the one times Ethan and his father had been close together and had been at some kind of peace. They’d waited in the waiting room, aware of how Ethan’s little brother was going to be born at any moment. His mother had yelled in _furious_ Korean that she did not want his father there with her, that he’d be useless and faint all over again.

“Dad?” asked Ethan, head resting on his father’s thigh as he ran a fire truck back and forth on his seat.

“Yes?”

“Momma said that you’d faint if you were in there. What did she mean?”

His father laughed, patting Ethan’s shoulder. “When your momma was giving birth to you, I fainted,” he admitted. “It was a scary thing to see, and I think an even scarier thing for your momma.”

“Why does it make her hurt?”

“Well,” his father sounded awkward, “when you give birth, it’s like having a painful poop.”

Ethan frowned. “Oh. OK. I’m glad I won’t have kids,”

About four hours later, Eli was in the world. Ethan was the third person to hold him, after the doctor and his mother, and his father had to go lie down when he saw Eli.

The people down below were piling into the RV. It looked hella ugly in Ethan’s opinion, but to each their desperate own.

He decided now was as good a time as any to climb back down the water tower and grab one of those cars.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan made it to Washington. He kept a steady grip on the steering wheel, remembering just what his dad said about driving. He tried to ignore most of what that man said to him, but the lessons with driving had been important. What was important that he survived, he was going to get his brother and make sure they would survive together.

He managed several miles in before the car ran out of fuel and he had to ditch it. There was still some distance he needed to make, but he knew he’d manage it – he needed to, he didn’t know how long Eli could go without him. As he walked along the road he was on, he found some tyre tracks, though they didn’t look like the ones he had seen on the first day that Eli wasn’t there, they looked fresh enough to follow.

With his luck, he supposed it could’ve been the group he had seen earlier, though he hoped it wasn’t. If he had to, he could always try and persuade them to help him; people liked kids, right? They had to like him, they had a baby with them, for goodness sake. Though, Ethan knew that looks could be deceiving.

As he continued walking, the road opened up and he saw the group stationary. Their RV looked like it was dead. He stayed in the treeline, hidden away, getting a better look at them all without knowing they were being watched.

The boy that looked about Ethan’s age was holding the baby as he sat on the hood of the car next to the heavily bearded man. They spoke together, but Ethan couldn’t hear what they were saying. The RV was up and running soon, after the Korean guy showed something to one of the white guys – the one with flaming red hair – and they’d done something at the front of the RV that Ethan couldn’t see.

“You were trying to find someone else before you found us?” one of the black women said fairly clearly for Ethan to hear, it was the one without the dreadlocks. “What happened?”

Ethan squinted and realised she was talking to the man that had followed him. Aaron was his name, right? “Yeah, a kid. Boy can’t have been that much older than Carl over there,” he said, pointing to the boy with the baby who had looked up at the mention of his name. Ethan felt something inside him at the mention of being a boy.

“Carl and Aaron,” said Ethan quietly, putting names to the faces.

“He went into a store, I followed, to try and introduce myself, but he fled before I managed to find him in there,”

The woman raised her eyebrow. “And he was alone?” she asked, perplexed. “You’re telling me a teenage boy managed to survive on his own?”

Aaron shrugged a shoulder. “Eric and I followed him, watched him shout for someone – Eli, I think – and let a pack of twenty walkers follow him before he killed them all by himself.”

That caught the attention of the others, an obvious reaction even with the distance between him and the group. “Do you have any idea as to where he could be now?” the dreadlocked woman asked.

“He was heading towards Washington like you were, so we could cross paths again in the future,”

Ethan smirked. “Wah-wah,” he said, like he was trying to imitate a sound he heard on cartoons when something ironic or stupid happened.

“Dad, I gotta go take a leak,” the boy, Carl, said to the bearded man. The man nodded and took the baby from the boy’s grip before he set off in Ethan’s direction.

“Oh, fuck,” said Ethan, who crouched low on the ground and held his breath.

The boy walked straight past him, unknowingly walking past Ethan. He didn’t walk too far into the forest, just a little out of sight of his group. The thought that he could just easily go and kill the boy was the first that flashed in his mind and he wondered what he should do.

He wasn’t sure how many thought processors he went through before he decided to follow the boy. Probably enough. As he followed the boy ( _Carl_ ), he became aware of how lightly he had to tread so that he wouldn’t figure out he was being followed. But if the boy was anything like Ethan, then he knew that he only had a limited amount of time before Carl figured out he was being tailed. Feeling a little self-conscious, Ethan pulled the bandanna from his neck and covered his mouth and nose with it.

Ethan nearly walked in on the boy pissing. That would’ve been traumatising.

“I know you’re following me,” said Carl, prompting Ethan’s heart to fling itself up into his throat in an attempt to escape. “You’re lucky you didn’t follow Daryl – the guy on the RV,” he continued, walking around their area, though Ethan tried to be as silent as possible as he evaded Carl’s search. “We’re going to a community, Alexandria. You should come with us,”

_Fat fucking chance,_ thought Ethan, holding the hilt of his knife tightly.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust me either,” he said, then moved out of Ethan’s sight and was suddenly silent in his words and steps. Shit. He looked around, keeping his breathing as silent as possible, but then there was a knife pressed to his neck. “Stand up.”

He complied. He held out his arms in a slight surrender, holding out his knife in his right hand; it was snatched away in the other boy’s hand. “What were you gonna do to me?” said Carl, his voice closer than what Ethan anticipated. He was glad he’d put his aids in today and was actually putting them to good use.

“Nothing,” he answered, though his voice sounded rougher than he imagined it would be, but it sounded deeper and more _boy_. “Didn’t want any trouble, was gonna walk away,”

Carl chuckled and pressed the edge of the knife closer to Ethan’s neck. He moved his head backwards and found himself near enough pressing his head into Carl’s left shoulder. “Don’t lie to me,”

“Why would I lie to a pretty boy like you?” he asked, which had been enough to throw Carl for a loop.

Ethan moved quicker than what Carl had anticipated, slipping down, ducking under the arm with the knife. He pulled that arm back with him, left hand pressing into Carl’s back, knocking him to the ground in one fell swoop, right wrist twisted until Carl released his knife. Ethan took it and placed it in his belt, then kneeled down on the other boy’s back.

“What’re you gonna do to me?”

“What were _you_ gonna do to _me_?” Ethan retaliated, fear coursing through his veins. “If there’s someone near me, I check them out, follow them and see if they’re dangerous. If they’re dangerous, they die. If they’re not really a threat, they don’t have to know I exist. Tell me, Carl, are you dangerous?”

Carl laughed dryly, so Ethan pressed his knee harder into his back. “You’ll see how fucking dangerous I am when you let go of me.”

“And leave your little baby all alone?” Ethan asked, throwing caution to the wind, throwing wild guesses along with it. “Not that hard to see that it’s your little sibling, though I couldn’t see what it was, not that it really matters at the moment. You’ll not threaten me, boy.”

“You kill me, my dad will kill you,”

At least someone’s dad would kill for their son. “Then don’t you have it made in paradise. I’m not gonna keep you long, or else your group will come and find us in this … predicament.”

Before Ethan could continue, Carl had bucked him off his back and was suddenly on top of him, grabbed his wrists before digging his knees into them; he was surprised his aids hadn’t been knocked out of his ears. Then Carl pulled the bandana away from his face. Ethan saw the confusion in his face before it vanished. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at him before replying. “My little brother is lost. Your new guy, Aaron, told you he’s called Eli. I’m trying to find him because some assholes might have got him. I’m gonna find him and kill every fucker that gets in my way.” He shifted slightly beneath Carl’s weight. “Now … it appears you’re a fucker that’s gotten in my way.”

He lifted his hips up in a sudden fluid motion, setting Carl off balance, freeing Ethan’s left wrist. He quickly pulled Carl down by the neck of his t-shirt, right hand freed so that he could punch him in the throat. Carl made a choking noise as he fell sideways, leaving Ethan enough time to grab the fallen knife and run.

“Da-DAD!” Carl yelled, voice horse and steadily becoming distant.

And then Ethan truly had to run. He could hear the people thundering through the forest behind him, though could hear Carl’s dad’s frantic, “are you alright, son?” as he ran away.

He didn’t stop running, not until he was sure they weren’t following him any more. He kept looking back, like he had a sneaking suspicion they wouldn’t relent that easily. Carl had mentioned something about being lucky not to have followed the man named Daryl into the forest, so he was sure that that man would try and hunt him the longest.

It was only Ethan’s luck did he run into a herd, bigger than anything he’d ever seen.

“Fuck!” he hissed, turning back to run into the forest. He felt like his chest was on fire, the restriction hurting him more than it ever had, but he had no time to worry about that just yet, he had to survive the herd first.

Ethan was determined to make sure that he would survive anything the world threw at him.


	3. Civil Meetings

Breathing felt like fire in his lungs, he knew he was too loud, but he couldn’t help it. He had to hurry, it was almost on him. His hands grabbed the innards of the fallen walker and he covered his chest in it, lathering it on himself, letting it drip down onto his already bloodied legs. Ethan reached all over himself, covering himself from head to foot in walker guts, thankful to have come across a particularly large one that he could dissect for his survival.

The first few in the front were mere feet away; he had been smart enough to hide behind a thick tree so that his quick movements wouldn’t be spotted. He could pass as one of them for when they got close enough to him. But he knew he’d have to change clothes soon; those were beyond repair now. There was no time to waste, he applied all of it on him, not wanting to risk it.

He stood up, backpack pressing into the tree he had hidden behind, forced his breathing to slow down and quieten even though it caused a bit of pain in his lungs. His grip on the knife in his hand tightened, the sounds of the walkers loud in his broken ears, the smell sticking in his nose, and then they were upon him.

To his relief, he was invisible to them, as he had hoped. Now he was in the eye of the storm and he needed to get out of there before they were able to unmask his scent. But he allowed himself to get his breathing back to normal, fully aware of the pain in his ribs, of the burning in his chest. He knew he’d been wearing it for far too long, but what else was he going to do? He needed it, it was the only solution; surgery was not an option he had.

Not for the first time, Ethan wished he had gone with that Aaron man, or made a better first impression on Carl and his group. Maybe then he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation. But that was in the past and he had no power to fix it. The snarls from the walkers kept him awake, adrenaline in his veins, telling him to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible, even though logic told him that if he were to leave, that he go quietly and slowly.

Ethan waited as patiently as he could for most of the herd to go ahead of him; he didn’t want to divert their attention onto him and his escape. As it started to thin out, he moved around the tree, slipping behind the herd, walking away slowly to ensure that they’d not notice his vanishing act.

He didn’t stop walking until the herd was far behind him.

His heart hadn’t stopped trying to hammer its way out of his chest, it felt like it was determined to try and catch the attention of the walkers that had been around him. Ethan hadn’t risked quickening his pace around the walkers, hadn’t until he had lost sight and sound of them, and had waited another hour just to be sure. But he didn’t dare go and clean off the walker guts, not now that he was near enough to Washington. If he was thinking right, he must’ve been in Virginia.

Wherever he was, he’d make sure Eli would be with him. He would.

The sun beating down on him burned him, so he tried to find as much shelter from it as possible; he wasn’t in the mood to risk getting heatstroke in his eagerness to find his brother. Ethan knew he’d find Eli near Washington, he had to. There was nowhere else he could think of where his brother could be.

As he sat beneath the shade of a large birch tree, he examined his grubby nails. There was blood and mud embedded under them, and it was hard to see his skin colour underneath all the grime. He was just glad he wasn’t one to bite his nails – though, his nasty habit of scratching his forefinger nail against the skin of his thumbs, he was guilty of. He had to stop himself from doing it now, especially with all the walker blood on his hands. To make up for the lack of calming his anxiety that way, he fiddled with the knife in his hands, clutching it tightly whenever his arms felt weird in that sense that they needed something to hold or fiddle with.

Although he wasn’t too sure how his brain worked with all the little cogs a bit loose, he’d found a few methods that would calm him down.

The sun was as warm as ever when he convinced himself to carry on walking, even when his feet tried to convince him otherwise.

 

* * *

 

 

When the sun had set, Ethan had been thankful for it. He’d found a building to hole up in, long since abandoned, with debris on the fire exits, hard enough to climb up, impossible for walkers. He’d checked everywhere in the building, making a mental note of the glass on the front doors before he found a room to settle in for the night. What he hadn’t expected was to find a substantial amount of food left alone. From the fine layer of dust covering it, he knew that no-one would miss it.

Something Ethan really liked were sunsets, the pretty colours blurring together, lighter further down you looked, and turning inky black the further back up in the sky you’d gaze into. The stars made the world appear exceptionally pretty, too. Ethan turned his attention back to inside the room he was in, secured all exits, with nothing getting in for the night that Ethan stayed there. He’d been surprised to find several baby wipes, which he’d used to haphazardly clean his face, and some water that he had half chugged and half used to help clean himself up a little bit more.

He heaved a sigh before easing his feet out of his worn boots, massaging the skin, aware of the blisters and aches from walking for so long. He searched his bag and found a blister plaster and applied it to the worst one, hoping the others would be manageable. Though with his luck, he guessed he’d find it harder to walk until they’d heal over.

As he laid down on the cold floor, in an old sleeping bag, his thoughts wandered to the Carl boy and his group. Ethan was curious as to how a group could work harmoniously without repercussions, without the leader enforcing themselves upon the weaker of them. Physically shaking his head, he curled up further into his sleeping bag, trying to think of a better life. Ethan couldn’t think about a life without the walkers, having spent many years in the apocalypse, but instead, tried to think about what it would be like to be in a group that trusted you and was _good_. As much as he knew he’d never get to experience something like that, it was nice to try and think about the possibilities it could give.

Sleep came to Ethan, but not without its downsides. He had long since gotten used to waking up several times a night, but the distorted images that woke him were always different, though never failed to make his heart pump blood around his system a little harder than what it probably should. It took him a long time before he took out his aids (to conserve the battery, _conserveconserveconserve_ ), because he never knew when he’d run out of batteries for them, and if he did, then he’d be fucked.

He tried not to think about just how fucked he’d be if he really did run out of batteries for them. He tried not to think about how there was only a limited amount of batteries for them, and that his four years were nearly up. As soon as their shelf lives were out, he knew he’d be so screwed. He was replacing the batteries about every ten days, and was so worried, just a constant state of worry.

Sleep was difficult for the deaf boy.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan was good at finding things – hence why he was good at finding batteries for his aids, why he had survived so long. He supposed if he were to go to Hogwarts, he’d be a Hufflepuff, and even though most of the characters in those books didn’t like that house, he supposed it was a good one. But he’d found something much bigger than just aid batteries and supplies. No, he’d found something definitely bigger.

He’d found a community.

Keeping calm, he kept himself hidden away in the treeline, eyeing the poor guarding system the community had. It took him a moment before he realised he’d seen this place before – in passing once with his mother, father and Eli, when they’d been trying to find somewhere for them, somewhere where they could belong. His father hadn’t even bothered with the place when he saw it, the walls deeming the inhabitants dead meat walking, according to his father, and they kept on driving.

He wasn’t sure what he felt about the place, though he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It had big walls, though the poles in the ground that kept the walls upright were on the outside – easy to climb into the community with, and from the look of the exterior of the walls, the behind of it would have an easy enough foothold that he could use to climb back out of. It was a little unnerving to find how easy he saw these weaknesses that he could exploit, and as his eyes swept over the area, he saw a sign, informing Ethan that this place was called Alexandria. It was a nice name, and then he remembered the boy, Carl’s words, this was the place he was going to. As he strained his ears, he could distantly hear kids – _kids_ – inside.

Oh man, these people were so in over their heads.

A racket to his left made his heart nearly lurch out of his throat. He crouched further down, feeling abject terror as he saw a girl climb over it and slide down one of the poles that kept the wall up. It took a moment for Ethan to realise the girl would be around his age, like the Carl boy. He remained stock still as she walked into the woods, and not too long later, the other boy himself climbed over the wall.

“Wow, I think he really needs to get laid,” said Ethan, humouring no-one. He decided against following the two teens – no doubt they were angsty, and Ethan had a sneaking suspicion that Carl wouldn’t be too pleased to see him after he throat punched him. So he walked further into the forest, trying to ignore how there were definitely two humans nearby – and two humans that he could’ve been friends with if he’d been the type to socially interact with other people. He doubted he’d be socially anything.

He’d been so lost in thought, he’d almost walked out into the open of a man – and it took him a while to realise it was that group’s leader, and he was missing that massive bushy beard he had that had intimidated the fuck out of Ethan. Why was it just Ethan’s luck that once he’d ran into these people once, he’d run into them a thousand times.

And then, naturally, the man was getting swamped with walkers. And Ethan, being Ethan, had to step in and help the man. He walked forwards, knives in each hand, stepping lightly around the walkers, dodging their outstretched limbs by ducking and stabbing upwards into glands until it hit the brain. Ethan moved fluidly, and before he knew it, there was a gun aimed at his bandanna covered face. He’d been so glad to have hidden his face.

“Who’re you?” the man asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Ethan,” he answered. He might as well be honest with the man … at least to an extent. “You?”

“Rick … Grimes,” he said, though didn’t lower the gun. “How old are you?”

Ethan shrugged, suddenly aware of how he’d put his hands up in a surrendering gesture, despite his knives still being clutched in his hands. “This shit all started when I was like twelve. It’s been a thing for about four summers, so I think I’m at least sixteen,”

This looked like it appeased the man. “How many walkers have you killed?”

Ethan thought that was a stupid question. “A lot. I don’t keep count.”

“How many people you killed?”

Bit personal, thought Ethan. He was aware of how the facial features the man could see betrayed Ethan. “How many?” the man repeated, taking the safety off the gun.

“I don’t know,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Why?”

Ethan felt sick. “I was with a bad group, I wanted to get me and my brother out of there, but they wouldn’t let us go. They –” he cut himself off, trying to compose himself, felt the betrayal of the stinging in his eyes, but he met the man’s – Rick’s – eyes, feeling a sudden rush of determination. “They threatened to do all sorts of horrible things to me and my brother, shit I could never think of, shit that would make you turn and run in the other fucking direction. I was going to protect that boy with everything I had – and everything I didn’t. So I killed every single one of those fuckers that said those things, because I knew that if they caught me or my brother – _they’d do worse_. I don’t know how many of those fuckers I killed, but I don’t regret it. I did what I had to do to protect myself and my brother, and maybe even other people who could’ve had horrible fates if they met those … people. I don’t think you’d class them as people.”

Rick Grimes lowered his gun, then glanced behind Ethan, who turned and felt his stomach drop. It was that stupid fucking Carl boy. And he was aiming his gun right at Ethan’s face. “You fuckin’ shoot me, you best pray I’m dead,”

He thought he heard Rick snort, though dismissed it. “Dad, this is him,” said Carl, though his eyes remained on Ethan. Carl’s face was impossible to read, though Ethan could tell he was conflicted – on what, Ethan wasn’t sure. Still, he couldn’t help but feel the pride that even Carl knew he was a boy.

“You meet Aaron? You’re the boy whose brother is Eli?”

Ethan nodded, not sure as to what to do about this situation. It was already enough social interaction for the year. He looked between the two, they had to be father and son. “Have you been following us?” Carl demanded.

“Not intentionally,” said Ethan, he then turned his back on Carl and looked at Rick. “That bad group I mentioned? I’m sure as shit that they kidnapped my brother, and their last residence I can remember is near Washington, near _here_ , if a few miles or so out, so I retraced my steps. I’ve been trying to avoid people, if I’m gonna be honest. But I’m finding him. He’s only ten, he needs me,”

Rick narrowed his gaze on Ethan, as if to figure out Ethan. “Come with me and my son, come to the community we’re staying at. I’m sure there are people who used to live around here that know the area better, or others who may have been in this community.”

Ethan shook his head, a sad smile on his face that Rick couldn’t see. “If you have any people from that community, I think you should shoot them until the mag is empty. You don’t want to sleep behind walls knowing that those people are a few doors away from you and your family.”

“What do you know about my family?” Rick demanded, suddenly raising his gun. Ethan instinctively took a step backwards, only for the back of his head to have the end of Carl’s gun pressed into it.

“Nothing. I simply meant that the group you were with – they’re your family, right? Your son is right here behind me, and I’m gonna take a wild guess that that baby is possibly also yours. You’d do anything for them, right? Same way that I’d do anything for my brother. He’s all I’ve got and I’m all he’s got. We can barely trust the living.”

There was a pause as Ethan’s words sunk into both father and son’s minds. Then to Ethan’s surprise, Carl lowered the gun, and Rick soon followed suit. He half expected these strangers to pop a bullet or two into him and leave him for the dead.

“What are your plans?” asked Rick.

“Map my way to their base, find its weakest spots, sneak in, get my brother, sneak out,”

“And after?” Carl said. “When you find your brother?”

Ethan hadn’t thought that far ahead. Really, he didn’t think he’d make it that far. “We get by. Maybe stop at your pretty little community – Alexandria, right? I might pop by and give you a visit,”

“But no throat punches,” said Carl, and it took Ethan all he had to not snort out a laugh.

“No throat punches,” he repeated. Seeing that the conversation was dwindling down, he turned on his heel, walking backwards further into the woods, Rick on his left and Carl on his right. “Bye!” he said, sounding a lot more enthusiastic than what he felt.

Carl moved forwards, walking towards his father and Ethan. “Where are you gonna go?”

“No clue,” he said, then turned his back on them and ran out of sight.

 

* * *

 

 

Life was rough, Ethan had learnt this the hard way. Though, he’d found alternate ways to get through the shit life thought was best to throw in his way. He’d learnt the hard way and thought that it wasn’t particularly fair that his little brother had to learn in even harsher ways. Just thinking of that made him want to find Eli all the more quickly.

He poured himself over the maps that he had, searched everywhere to try and find maps that were the last up to date ones before the apocalypse. He tried to remember which roads were blocked off, from traffic snarls to destroyed buildings, seeing if there was any way he could find his way back to that place. Just thinking about the Sanctuary made Ethan feel sick.

The days passed, and Ethan stocked up his inventory, taking a brief home in the building he had found nearby the Alexandria community. He found that he had secured himself with several weeks of food (if he rationed it carefully, properly), and had enough water to make sure that he wouldn’t go thirsty. His weapons ammunition was something he was proud of, with enough magazines for the guns that he had, sharpened blades that kept him safe at night. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready. He had no way to figure out how to get in until he was there, and when he was there … he maybe only had one chance.

But before he could try and formulate a plan, he heard a crash and some swearing, and it had to have been loud because he hadn’t been wearing his BTEs. He felt himself tense up, grabbed for a gun and a knife before he even thought about it, clicked off the safety and rose to a stand, raising his gun in the direction of the door he’d foolishly left open. Quickly, he put in his aids and turned them on.

And then a girl walked in.

It wasn’t just any girl, of course it wouldn’t be – no, it was the girl from all those days prior, the one who’d climbed over Alexandria’s walls.

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little surprised. “It’s you.” That took Ethan a little by surprise.

“You know me?” he asked, though didn’t lower his gun. “You’re from that community.”

She had the nerve to roll her eyes. “And you’re the one that Carl and Rick saw,”

Ethan supposed she must’ve seen him in the woods around the time he saw her, or she saw him interact with Rick. “I don’t think you’ll find your brother,” she said, and yep, she’d seen him with Rick.

“I’ll try anyway. There’s nothing better to do, is there?” he asked. They stared at each other for a few moments more before she sighed.

“Are you gonna lower your gun?” she asked, hands going to the straps of her backpack, tilting her head to the side in annoyance.

He shook his head. “Would you?” he tilted his head too, stepped forwards a few steps. “A stranger comes into your place, no knowledge on who they are, a potential threat that has a little knowledge on you.”

She laughed. It was only brief, but it was definitely a laugh. “Enid,” she said.

“Ethan,”

“Gonna lower the gun yet?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. She nodded, holding her hands up a little in surrender, though kept her thumbs wrapped around the straps. This girl, Enid, was peculiar. She was drastically different from Ethan himself and the Carl boy. He wasn’t sure if he liked Enid or trusted her. “What’re you planning on doing?” she asked.

“How many walkers you killed?”

Enid rolled her eyes; it was quite obvious that he was asking her what Rick had asked him mere days ago. “I dunno. I’ve never killed anyone because I’ve never had the chance to and because I don’t want to.”

There was only a split second’s hesitance before Ethan put his gun away, safety back on. “I heard you, talking about your brother. Want help?”

“Why? You offering?”

Her mouth twisted in what might’ve been a smile. “There’s nothing better to do,” she said, echoing his words. “So?”

“Sure.” he said, having a feeling he might regret this. Who knew what shit this girl would pull him in to?


	4. Riding Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of dialogue and such from the show as things progress with Ethan in this chapter, which was longer than I anticipated.  
> TW: mention of the past child abuse I've put in the tags. Not explicitly stated as CA, but the wording does imply it.

The days weren’t really coherent, he wasn’t sure how many had really passed, but he knew he and Enid were to meet up, everyday at midday in the building she’d found him in. Sometimes, they’d both go running in the woods together, to feel alive and know what world they were living in; it reminded them of the walkers and just how dangerous things could be. Today, that had happened, and now they was lounging around in the wilderness. For some reason, Enid refused to call the community _hers_ , which was something Ethan had picked up on and could empathise with. Nothing was truly theirs any more, so there was no point to try and claim otherwise. The world never really belonged to them in the first place.

Enid sat with Ethan in the woods, hidden away up in a tree as walkers walked beneath, unaware of them. This was one of those moments where Ethan was glad that he couldn’t really hear all that well – it made the dead less frightening to him, even though he fully understood the threat that they held over his life. He was already on borrowed time anyway.

“What’ll you do when you get there – to the Sanctuary?” asked Enid, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at Ethan unblinkingly. She was using one of her looks; the ones where she barely changed her facial expressions but there was a definite thing that her face was shouting at him. He wondered if she used those expressions on the people in that community she lives in, or if she reserved them just for him.

He shrugged a shoulder, scratching at his dirty face, and he could feel the grime get pulled up under his fingernail. “I think I can remember the layout of the place fairly well, it’s just the leader and the men I’ll have to watch out for,” he said, locking his gaze with hers. “The women are just as dangerous, especially the women he handpicked to be by his side, but some of the men and women are scared and obedient, and they’re the workers who do most of the hard labour there. I’ll have to watch out or I’ll get burned.”

She frowned, eyebrows coming together slightly. “You’ll get burned?” she repeated.

“Their leader, Negan … I saw it happen once, he had someone burned. Because I left and took Eli with me, I’m sure that if they find me sneaking back in to get him, I’ll get it too,”

Enid looked disturbed from the information he’d just given her. “What kinda place was this?”

“The worst.”

They looked beneath them, the herd diminishing a little. It’d soon end and then they’d be on their separate ways, just like every other day when they’d meet up. Ethan leaned back against the tree, back popping quietly. He looked over at her, saw her gaze follow him like it always did. She raised an eyebrow at him, though said nothing.

Neither said anything for a while.

Once the walkers had finally gone their way, they’d waited, Enid telling him when she couldn’t hear them any more before they both climbed back down the tree.

“You’re not dangerous, y’know,” said Enid as he walked her back to Alexandria. She said it in that sure way of hers. “You could’ve killed me and Rick’s group, but you didn’t. You’re too nice, which is why you’re probably going to die soon,”

He shrugged a shoulder, ignoring the harsh sting from her words. “So long as I see Eli one last time, then I don’t care. If you think I’m not dangerous now, then you’ve got no idea what I really am,”

“You’re Ethan, that’s what you really are. Even the ugly parts.”

Enid looked at him, almost like she was challenging him to say otherwise when he looked at her with suspicion, because he hadn’t told her that big part of him, but with Enid, he knew that she had some secret ability to read his mind and whatever else that she needed to get information from him. She was Enid, so she probably knew that part of him. “Every part of me is Ethan, even the aspects I wish I didn’t have.”

“We’ve all got those kinds of things, though I think yours kinda sucks a little more,”

He couldn’t help but laugh. So she did know. “I concur. You coming out tomorrow or not?” he asked.

“No,” she said slowly, drawing it out. “I don’t think so. If I do, you’ll stay around here longer, and I know you’re scared to go near the Sanctuary and you’re using me as an excuse to not go yet, even though you want to see your brother.”

“Wow, straight to the point,” he muttered, earning a shove on the shoulder, though there was no real heat behind the hit.

“But you know I’m right,” she said, and he refused to admit it to her. “Go out and try and find your brother – go a few extra miles out to see if you can get any closer. He’ll need you, and you obviously need him.”

There was only so much he could do before he had to give in to her words.

Unfortunately, there were days when neither would see each other, both doing something in their lives that didn’t involve the other. Neither really cared for it, though grew to develop some sentiment for each other as the days passed. Their friendship was peculiar, but they both found that it worked for them, as haphazard as their meet ups were, even though they thought they ought to try and see each other once a day, life somehow got in the way of that, even when it felt like life in the apocalypse shouldn’t be as inconvenient as it was for them. It was weird that life worked that way, but Ethan tried not to think about it. Life was sometimes fucked up.

Now though, Ethan was watching a horse in the wild from a safe perch in a tree.

He watched the horse from his spot in the trees, seeing it get roam the field it was in, like it didn’t know that the world had gone to shit around it. He picked at the skin on the side of his thumb again, trying to ease the anxiousness settling in his chest. As he looked back towards the horse, he heard humans walking towards where he was perched; he twisted around a little and saw it was Aaron and the leather jacket guy from Rick’s group ( _Daryl_ , his brain supplied helpfully, taking tone and voice of Carl). They hadn’t been _loud_ when they’d been approaching, but the intensity of the silence around Ethan had let him know of their presence, even if his hearing was a little broken. He watched as Daryl moved towards the horse, no doubt trying to reign it in. Ethan stayed in his perch, watching them, only to spot movement near them, and he decided he was going to regret his next decision.

Ethan moved out of his perch and onto the ground in one fluid motion, rolling in his land so that he didn’t hurt his feet and ankles. He heard the man, Daryl, yell something about the walkers coming, but he was already moving, unsheathing his knife and attacking the walkers that he’d seen from his perch. He couldn’t let these guys die because he decided to hide away. Sometimes he hated how _humane_ he was.

To say that the older men looked surprised to see Ethan was an understatement. But then they worked together almost seamlessly, taking out the walkers together. As soon as the last walker was down, Ethan was faced with a crossbow. “Thanks would be nice,” he said, looking at the man pointing the crossbow at him, hands up in a familiar surrender he had done for Rick however long ago that had been. “I thought you wanted to get that horse?”

“Daryl, wait – it’s the boy I told you about,” said Aaron, motioning to Ethan with a free hand, coming to stand almost between them, but kept out of range of the crossbow.

Ethan could see the thought processes from Daryl’s minute change in expression, the look in his eyes. “C’mon,” he said, leading both Aaron and Ethan in the direction the horse had gone.

Ethan wasn’t sure as to why he was walking with these men. He knew Aaron was a good man – it was written all over him; the way he walked, looked at people, his eyes, face. He was an innocent man who was just trying to recruit people. But Ethan struggled to get a read on Daryl, but knew the man was dangerous. He essentially screamed danger, but not in the way that Ethan was far too familiar with; Daryl also had the look of him like he’d grown up with the danger Ethan had, and it made his stomach churn a little.

“Can you ride horses?” asked Aaron. Ethan looked over at the man, unsure of whether he was talking to him or Daryl, so let the older man have the question.

“I ride bikes,” Daryl answered. Ethan had a vivid image of Daryl riding a tricycle that was comedically too small for him. The tricycle was also very brightly pink, glittery and had tassels on the handles. Yeah, that didn’t seem like the man’s type of bike at all.

“I take it you don’t mean 10-speeds,” the other man said, and didn’t get a response. “I know you’re feeling like an outsider. It’s not your fault, you know? Eric and I, we’re still looked at as outsiders in a lot of ways. We’ve heard our fair share of well-meaning, but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice men and women.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Fuck homophobia.”

“Fuck it,” Daryl grunted, nodding his head once in agreement.

The other man continued on after their input. “People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear _shrinks_ the brain. They’re scared of you and me for different reasons. They’re less cared of me because they know me. It’s less and less every day. So, let them get to know you. You should go to Deanna’s party tonight.” This man was big on speeches, wasn’t he? Ethan wondered if he’d been planning a speech to Ethan before he’d hidden away from him when he’d been trying to recruit him. Listening to speeches made Ethan feel awkward, not sure how he’d be able to respond to it after, or if he was supposed to respond to them or not and let the words hang in the air.

He supposed not having many social interactions throughout the apocalypse had done that developmental stage justice.

“I got nothin’ to prove. I met a lot of bad people out here doin’ a lot of bad shit,” Daryl said as they climbed over fallen trees, ducking under branches. “They weren’t afraid of nothin’.”

“Yeah, they were,”

“My god, this is so cringey,” said Ethan, rolling his eyes, wondering why he was suddenly speaking to these strangers. For all he knew, they could murder him, mutilate him, or worse, assault him. But Aaron’s trusting aura made him stick with them. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he went along with it anyway, because he didn’t want to look over his pitiful plans to get Eli any more. All he wanted to do was hug the boy once more and never let him go. “There’s bad people in the world and they’re gonna get us killed. There’s homophobic and whatever else shitheads in the world cos they think they’re superior. If you think they hate you and say offensive shit like that, just wait for if they ever saw me.”

The two men turned to look at Ethan, who realised he’d said that last sentence out loud. “What do you mean?” asked Aaron, curiosity in his face, but not the mean kind.

“Well, first off – I’m Korean, well, _half_ – and second, I have a bit of a feminine face for a guy, which I hate thinking about.”

This invoked two things: confusion in Daryl and surprise in Aaron. “You’re trans?” the latter asked, sounding surprised. Ethan wondered why he was so surprised, he felt like it was fairly obvious, but then again, he hadn’t seen his reflection properly in years, and maybe puberty hadn’t dicked him over.

“And hating life, yes. But we don’t talk about it because if we do, I feel like killing myself. Let’s just go and get this horse,”

The three walked on, though Ethan was aware of Daryl giving him curious glances every now and then. They weren’t curious-murder, so he had to take a stab in the dark and guess Daryl didn’t know what the term trans meant when applied to Ethan. Which also meant the inevitable having to explain to the man what it meant and what it meant to Ethan, and just thinking about trying to explain it made him worried and stressed.

The nail on his forefinger went back to scratching at the skin of his thumb.

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually the three made it to a sort of enclosed field, where the horse was running in with several walkers, which had noticed that the horse was there, which meant a free meal for them if Aaron, Daryl and Ethan weren’t quick enough. “We gotta move quick. He’s penned in with them,” said Daryl.

“Great,” the boy muttered, feeling like this was just his luck. No doubt there were walkers on the ground, hidden in the tall grass, just waiting for food to stumble across them, because _of course there would be_.

“I got the far ones,” said Daryl, moving forwards, raising his crossbow as he took aim at his target. Aaron jogged forwards, only to immediately get pulled to the ground.

Ethan moved quickly, knife in hand as he ran and skidded next to Aaron, knife slamming into the back of the walker’s skull before it could try and get a bite out of the man. He heaved the man up to his feet and turned and stabbed another walker in the head, vaguely hearing the man mutter a thanks in his direction.

Daryl had raced towards them both and led them towards the horse, only to see it get overrun with several walkers, getting ripped apart. The three prepared themselves. “I got the one on the right.”

They walked forwards, weapons in hand as they killed the walkers that were too interested in horse meat than them. “Go ahead,” said Daryl once they’d finished, and Aaron looked a little broken as he shot the horse, putting it out of its misery.

“He always ran,” he said, pressing his lips together, looking visibly upset. Ethan felt that he could relate to the horse, not something he’d ever expected of himself.

“Yeh were trying to help him,” Daryl replied, then led the way back that they had come.

There was a silence between the three as they walked back. Aaron lagged behind a little bit, leaving Ethan and Daryl walking ahead together.

“What did he mean that yer trans?”

Ethan felt his heart leap out of his chest fear the first thing he felt. “I got born with the wrong stuff and I’m aware that it needs fixing.” he said, then glanced over at the man, who was looking a little confused. “I’m a boy but I was … born with some girl stuff.”

Just talking about it made him feel sick. Talking about it with someone he didn’t know if he trusted or not made him feel such dread it almost left him immobile.

“Yeh can get it fixed?”

Ethan shrugged. “Maybe. I can wear something for my chest, hence why there’s no chesticles that you can see. People used to be able to get surgery to get that shit fixed and injections that could help make your voice deeper and grow a beard and shit like that. But now we’re in the apocalypse, I’m fucked.”

“Mean yeh could get surgery to get a dick?” he asked. Ethan couldn’t help but snort. Of course that’s the main thing he took from Ethan’s explanation. Men and their dicks.

“Yeah. They’d get skin grafts from either your arm or thigh and then I think you’d go through different surgeries to get all that stuff,” he said, shrugging. “My dad used to get so _mad_ at me when I was a kid. I don’t think he believed these kinds of people existed, let alone that one of those people were _me_. He already had to deal with me being deaf, being in surgery once before. I think he just wanted his little girl, but really I never was one.”

He noticed how Daryl had winced at the mention of Ethan’s father getting mad at him. “So, what? How does that thin’ for yer chest work?”

“It just … constricts, I guess. But it’s wearing thin now, so I need to try and find another one, but there’s only a few that I’ve found and they’ve all been too small for me,” he explained, “I mean, I’ve already got another one that I think fits me, but that’s for emergencies? Like once this one is worn out, I’m gonna immediately wear the other one, but I’ll need to find another to replace the emergency one. I can’t really explain it but having a spare one keeps my stress to a minimum, I guess.”

Daryl nodded, looking like he was contemplating something. “Rick tol’ us about you,” he said, looking back over at Ethan. “How yer tryin’a find yer brother,”

“Only lead is the Sanctuary, and the roads I’ve taken to get there have all been blocked, impossible to go through,” he offered. “My dad had us go there, thought it was a great idea. If you ever find the Saviors, you run in the opposite direction.”

A quickened pace told the two that Aaron was catching up with them. “I’ve never heard of them,” he said, looking over Ethan’s head to look at Daryl. “Have you?”

“Nah,” Daryl shook his head.

Ethan felt uncomfortable, walking between two strange men. He was sure that this wasn’t what people usually did, but he had a feeling that these men were good guys, and that gut feeling was usually right.

“Are you gonna come back with us?” asked Aaron, changing the subject with ease. He was looking at Ethan with something that made Ethan feel uneasy. It was hope, like a wish that he would.

Though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, he knew he’d have to find his brother. “No,” he said, shaking his head, looking at the two men. “I’m gonna stay out here a little longer. See if Eli was able to leave me a message. He’s good at leaving hints for me,”

The two men nodded, though from their expressions, Ethan knew they weren’t comfortable with leaving Ethan alone, especially with the information he had just told them about himself. But as they neared the community, Ethan parted from them.

 

* * *

 

 

Since dawn, Ethan had been walking. Now, the sun was high in the sky and he was finding fresh blood splatters.

Three hours prior, he’d found a little ‘S’ ingrained in a tree, along with some initials – ‘ELD’ – Eli’s initials. The letters were jagged and uneven, just how Eli carved his initials. He’d not stopped, hoping to find any more clues from Eli. Eli was smarter than what people thought, always being underestimated; after living with their father, learning how he worked before and during the apocalypse … well, Ethan had to teach his brother how to walk around their father without getting his attention or anger.

Sometimes, the brothers were invisible.

But now, there were blood splatters. Ethan could only guess that they hadn’t been too long ago, sometime during the day, though he couldn’t place when. He kept a firm grip on his knife, moving as silently as he could, in a sort of half crouch, prepared to either hide or attack if the opportunity arose.

He continued to follow the trail of dead and chopped up bodies, finding more and more dead bodies which he stabbed in the head (where there _were_ heads), until he found the girl tied up, torn apart. He tried not to think about it as he stabbed her in the head, efficiently stopping her from turning, though inspected the ‘W’ on her forehead. He wasn’t sure what he’d stumbled upon, though it gave him a bad feeling. It couldn’t have been that long since it had happened.

He turned around and came face to face with Daryl and Aaron.

“Weren’t you,” said Daryl, already managing to ease Ethan’s worry that he was gonna stab him. From the direction the two had come in, Ethan could only assume they’d followed him following the trail. He fiddled with his aids, turning them up a little louder. “Seen some walkers with some ‘W’s on their heads like her.”

Ethan turned back to look at her. “I dunno what’s happening around here, but it’s not good,” he said. “I think we gotta get the fuck out of here,” he advised. The other men shared a look before nodding to Ethan.

Aaron and Daryl lead the way back to their vehicles, and Ethan couldn’t help but whistle when he saw the bike. “Nice,” he said.

“Nah, yer gettin’ in the car,” said Daryl, shaking his head, flicking a hand out to Ethan, as if that would stop him from getting on the bike.

“But I wanna ride the bike,” he argued, actually pouting at the man. That had surprised himself, and it looked like it surprised Daryl too.

The three had grown accustomed to each other, constantly bumping into each other whenever Aaron and Daryl came out from Alexandria’s walls enough so that Ethan was allowed to come along with them. It wasn’t something Ethan thought would ever happen, though he felt ease knowing that there were people in the world that he could trust other than his brother and Enid (though, he wasn’t sure how much trust he thought he could put in her).

Reluctantly, Ethan got in the car with Aaron, watching Daryl ride ahead on his bike, feeling a little envious of him.

“Do you know how to drive?” asked Aaron, pulling Ethan out of his thoughts. He turned to look at him, and saw that Aaron was looking at him too.

“Yeah, but not bikes,” he answered. “My dad taught me how to drive when the shit started, thought that if the world was going to hell, I might as well know how to drive away from the worse parts.”

Aaron nodded, glancing between him and the road. “What about your mom?”

He tried not to think about her. “She taught me how to sew, fix up a few cuts and bruises, stitch myself together. Anything medical, I learned from her. She taught me how to care for Eli, though I don’t think I particularly succeeded in that lesson, huh?”

There was a brief silence as the pressure of his words drowned them. “You’ll find your brother,”

“I have a few options: I find him, alive and well. I find him dead. I find him as a walker, or I don’t find him at all. All I want is to find him, and just _know_.”

He hadn’t intended for it to get so depressing so quickly, but then again, they were in the apocalypse. When he looked back over at Aaron, having turned away so that he didn’t have to meet his eyes when he told him stuff, he found that Aaron looked upset. It was a little worrying, but he didn’t know how to deal with it, so didn’t mention it.

Instead, he reclined his seat a little, kicked his feet up onto the dashboard and shut his eyes, hoping to sleep for a while.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey,” someone said, then something nudged Ethan’s arm.

“No,” he mumbled, shifting away from the nudging thing, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“Get up,” came another voice. Ethan unwillingly opened his eyes, only to see Daryl looking at him. “C’mon, kid,”

They climbed out of the car, following Daryl, who had promptly gone off into the woods once Ethan had nodded to him, leaving the boy to wonder why he was with these guys, they would just slow down his attempt at getting his brother. Either way, he followed the two into the woods, sliding down a steep slope, unsure of what he was doing.

“Somebody came through here a while ago,” Daryl said, and Ethan caught sight of the tracks they were following.

“If we see them, we hang back, set up the mic, watch, and listen,” said Aaron.

“Mic?” Ethan asked as Daryl said, “For how long?”

“Until we know. We have to know,” he said, then looked over at Ethan. “Mic picks up what people are saying over long distances; how I knew you and Daryl’s group were good people,”

Daryl lead the way over some swampy area. “You’ve sent people away?” he asked, glancing over at Ethan, looking like he was going to offer him a hand, then decided against it.

“Yeah,” the other man said from behind Ethan.

“What happened?” both Daryl and Ethan said in near tandem.

“It was early on. It was three people. Two men and a woman. Davidson was our leader. Smart as hell, strong. I thought they’d work out, they didn’t. I brought them in and I had to see them out. So, me, Aiden and Nicholas, we drove them out, far. Gave them a day’s worth of food and water and left them.” he said as the three weaved in and out through the trees. Ethan kept looking behind them, feeling tense and worried.

“They just went?”

“We had their guns. We had all their guns. I can’t make that kind of mistake again,”

The silence soon enveloped the trio as they continued their trek, following the faded tracks until Ethan saw something.

“Get down,” he said, already going into a crouch, slipping out his binoculars to look out into the field. He knew he’d seen something – it was a person, a guy from what he could tell, and he was wearing a red poncho. “Why the fuck would you wear something so eye-catching?” he asked as he handed the binoculars to Daryl, who looked through them, finding their guy with ease. “Like he’s asking to get shot at.”

“What’s he doing?” Aaron asked, already in his mic gear.

“Wild leeks. Sonovabitch knows how to keep mosquitoes off him. C’mon.”

Aaron and Ethan followed the leather clad man, Ethan keeping an eye on their surroundings, dodging rabbit holes and mud.

“What would you do if you saw him on your own?” Aaron asked, looking over his shoulder to Ethan.

The boy in question shrugged. “Keep my distance. I don’t know who he is, but I think I’d trail him for a bit, see if he was bad or not. If he was good, I’d leave him be. If he was bad and I saw him doing bad stuff, then I’d kill him,”

Unsurprisingly, the men cast glances in Ethan’s direction. “You’ve had different experiences in this shithole. I leave the good, and I kill the bad.”

“Rick said you couldn’ remember how many people you killed from gettin’ out of the group you were with,” said Daryl, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

“If I told you just how many people I’ve killed, you’d kill me.”

“You’re just a kid,” Aaron said. “You’re still capable to change.”

Ethan didn’t believe it. “Whatever, maestro,”

Silence consumed the three as they tried to keep an eye on the red poncho man. Even though he was _wearing a red poncho_ , the three managed to lose sight of him. From what Ethan had seen of Daryl, the man was a great hunter, so he found it mildly hilarious to find that a man wearing a red poncho had escaped the hunter of Alexandria. It wasn’t like the guy was even trying. A _red poncho_.

What was he doing with his life? Nothing good, Ethan supposed.

Soon enough, they found themselves outside of Del Arno Foods, which made canned fruits and veg according to the faded words on the building across from them. God, just thinking about food made Ethan hungry. He’d gotten through most of his food, the rest tucked away in his bag and hidden away in Aaron’s car. Maybe now was the time to go back with them. Daryl handed over the binoculars to him, to give him a better look of the building, which was, naturally, surrounded by walkers.

“We checked the forest, we checked the roads, we can’t find him. Sometimes they slip away, that happens. Ethan managed to slip away until he didn’t,” Aaron said as he looked on into the building’s area. Oh, this was not gonna go the way Ethan thought it was, was it? “But you don’t come across something like this every day,”

“We do this now, it means we’re giving up.”

“Home is fifty miles back, it’s time to go. You saw it last night; there’s bad people out here.”

To say Ethan was surprised to find that they had travelled fifty miles was an understatement. He wondered if he had gotten any closer to Eli or if he’d driven further away. “That’s why we ought to keep looking for the good ones.”

“We need more people, we do, but when we do, we’ll need to feed them.” Which was why Ethan liked travelling alone; no-one else was with him, no more risk for more food if there was only one.

“Alright,” Daryl said, tapping on the metallic fence, easily getting the walkers’ attention.

“Just fantastic.” muttered Ethan, getting his knife ready as the walkers smashed themselves against the fencing, eager to try and get a bite out of them.

And then they took out the closest walkers to the gate, opened it and went inside, hoping to find some good food. They got closer to the trucks, going between some, checking out the area. But Ethan found it hard to let his guard down. On the trucks, he could see tin cans tied up on string, giving his stomach a sinking feeling, his chest feeling weirdly heavy. They climbed onto the loading bay, looking around, checking that the immediate area was clean.

“Huh – oh whoa,” said Aaron, catching their attention, though Ethan could feel his heart getting heavy, almost tense. His whole body was tense – something was going to go wrong. He pulled out his knives and gripped them tightly, swallowing to try and ease the weird lump in his throat that made it a little hard to breathe.

“Wasn’t sure I’d ever see one of these,” said Aaron, kneeling down to the license plate on the truck. When Daryl made a dismissive ‘yeah’, Ethan assumed this was just a thing Aaron tended to do.

His stomach still felt wrong. Daryl moved away, near to the entrance of the building, and left Ethan standing on the loading bay, between the two trucks, feeling his anxiety rising.

“Hey, listen, I don’t like giving up either, but this guy is in a red poncho. You can see him from a mile away,” Aaron said, freeing the license plate. He turned to look at Ethan and show it to him. The boy tried to smile, but he felt too tense. “You know, we’ve got a lot of miles here, no sign of him. But if we come away with a trailer full of cans, I’d say that’s a good trip.” Aaron said as he and Daryl joined Ethan back in the middle.

“Here we go,” Daryl said, bending down to open up a truck, only for a trap to get set off, opening all the trucks that had walkers in them. Daryl grabbed Ethan’s wrist and pulled him down off the loading and back out into the open area of the lot, only to find a lot more walkers there. They both stabbed the closest walkers, the blood splattering on them in disgusting blobs. Ethan could hear some getting killed behind him, and he got several more walkers, backing away when they began to clump up.

“Over here!” Aaron yelled to them, and both Daryl and Ethan turned back towards him.

“Come on!” Daryl shouted, and they dove under a truck, only to find some walkers already underneath (Ethan saw it had the same letter carved into its forehead), some metal chains and a few walkers determined to follow them wherever they went. Daryl looked at Ethan and nodded his head.

“Go,” said Aaron, shifting to follow Ethan and Daryl out from under the truck to the right side of it.

“Come on,” the man repeated to Ethan sternly, pulling the boy out by the arm, Aaron not too far behind them.

Daryl was up and slung the chains at some walkers’ heads quickly as Ethan stabbed as many as he possibly could, turning and stabbing the walker that had grabbed onto Aaron’s backpack, but another grabbed it just as quickly and the man shimmied his way out of it. Daryl and Aaron ran out of the gap and into the fray of walkers, and ran for the car, but several walkers cut Ethan off, soon surrounding him.

“ETHAN!” one of the guys – or maybe both of them – yelled, but Ethan was already in action. He’d done this a thousand times before, done it when he had protected Eli, when Eli had been with him in these situations.

He ducked under the dead arms, stabbing and stabbing, until there was a gap in the dead. He ran straight through it, up the ramp that came from one of the trucks and jumped and grabbed onto the roof of the truck, heaved himself up and rolled further onto it, curling up to keep himself from being grabbed.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

Ethan forced himself to calm down, controlled his breathing and looked out over the edge, saw most of the walkers had gone towards the car, oblivious to the fact that Ethan was there. He took his chance, crawling over to the back of the truck, back through to the loading bay and jumped down, raced around to the side and attacked.

The walkers were thinner on Aaron’s side, and he didn’t stop stabbing, even when what looked like a wooden pole came and stabbed the walker Ethan had aimed to hit. It moved away, and he yanked open the door; Aaron’s surprised face the first thing he saw. “Come on!” he snapped, turning around and stabbed the next few walkers, jogging towards the gates, hitting and knocking down each and every walker in his way.

The three men came up behind him and Daryl grabbed his arm again and pulled him through the gates as Aaron and the unknown man pulled it shut, locking it just as the walkers came and slammed themselves into it.

Ethan stepped back a little, chest burning with pain. “Y’alright?” Daryl asked, and it took Ethan a moment to realise he was talking to him and hadn’t yet let go of him.

“That chest constrictor? I’m not supposed to do physical activities in it,”

Daryl had the nerve to smack him around the head.

“That was … oh, thank you,” Aaron said to the man. “Uh, I’m Aaron, this is Daryl and Ethan,” he introduced, and Ethan gave the man a little wave.

“Morgan,” he said. Now that the stress of the current events had gone down, Ethan took a good look at the man – dark skinned, bald and maybe a bit old, older than Daryl, maybe. He looked like he was ready for the apocalypse with the clothing he was wearing.

“Why?” Daryl asked, voice growly and defensive. Ethan couldn’t blame him for being so tense, after all, who in their right mind goes and saves a few strangers?

“Why? Because all life is precious, Daryl.” Morgan answered. Ethan thought he was lucky that he didn’t groan aloud. He had a very different view on all life being precious or not.

“Whoever set that trap is coming, but we got good news, we do. We have, uh, a community, not too far from here. Walls, electricity, it’s safe. If you’d like to come join us,” Aaron began, but Morgan quickly cut him off, shaking his head, like he genuinely felt sorry declining.

“Thank you, but I’m on my way somewhere. Fact is, I’m lost, so if you could tell me where we are,” he held out a map to Daryl, who read a note on it, which Ethan clocked had Rick’s name on it.

Ethan looked up at Daryl, who was staring at Morgan with that look of his. “You know Rick?”

“I saved his life and he saved mine. I’m trying to find him, him and this new world,”

Daryl looked down at Ethan, then over to Aaron. “He’s alive. Back at our community,” said Daryl, and Morgan’s face split into a large smile. “We can take you to ‘im.”

“Thank you, Daryl, I would appreciate it,”

 

* * *

 

 

“Can I ride with you?” Ethan asked Daryl quietly as they approached their vehicles. His head was low and his voice even more so. “I don’t wanna be in the car with him. I don’t know him.”

Daryl glanced back over at Aaron and Morgan, both of whom were talking to each other. “Yeah, alright,” he said, nodding his head once. Daryl reached the bike first, and kicked it into start, turning it around and stopping by Aaron, Ethan and Morgan. “Me and Ethan are taking the bike,” he said over the sound of the engine. Aaron nodded as Ethan sat behind Daryl, tentatively securing his arms around the older man.

As Morgan and Aaron got in the car, Daryl nudged Ethan a little. “Yeh finally coming back with us?” he asked.

“Yeah,” he said, getting a sudden urge to rest his cheek on Daryl’s back, but held it in.

“Good. I ain’t wantin’ to worry about you getting yer ass killed out here,” he muttered before the engine roared to life and they were zooming off back to Alexandria.

The wind whipped through his hair, and he found it to be exhilarating, though he did feel a little relieved that he’d thought to take out his hearing aids; they would’ve been swooped away with the wind if he hadn’t. He’d never ridden on a motorbike before, and it was definitely something to tick off his bucket list. Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this close to someone, but he could trust Daryl – after all, they’d spent several days together, going out fifty miles together with Aaron. He knew he could trust these two men but didn’t know about Morgan just yet.

For the most part, Ethan stayed in his thoughts, having seen that they had indeed gotten further away from where Eli might be. He supposed he should’ve consulted a map before following the murders. Each day he spent away from Eli, the more he supposed he was losing his brother, risking him being killed.

He didn’t like staying in his thoughts too much, instead he tried to look at the passing scenery, the sun slowly setting behind them.

Daryl slowed the bike down as they got to the familiar community, flashing the light on the front of the bike to try and get whoever was at the gate to let them in. They didn’t get a response. “The hell?”

Ethan climbed off the bike and looked at the gates, aids back in place. “No-one’s there,” he said.

“How’re we gonna get in?” asked Aaron.

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan looked at them. “I’m amazing.” he said. Taking a few steps back to give him some power, he took a running jump onto the gate, hands gripping the bars as he secured his feet. Once he got secure, he climbed up the rest of the way, scrambling over the top and dropping with ease, rolling his landing. He looked to the right and pulled the pole out of the gate and pushed it open.

“How’d yeh do that?” Daryl asked as he pulled his bike into the community walls.

“You really think I’ve not had to climb over inconvenient walls before?” he replied, smiling slightly. Daryl shook his head, then took Ethan by surprise when he ruffled his hair.

They shut the gates, securing up the entrance when they heard several screams. The four barely shared a look before they started sprinting towards the source. Just as they reached it, they heard a gunshot. Taking out their weapons, they moved around the corner, only to find Rick standing over a body with a gunshot wound in the head, smoking gun in hand.

“Rick?” Morgan asked, and the man turned around to look at them.

“Morgan? Ethan?”

A little confused and scared, Ethan moved a step back, back pressing into Daryl’s left arm, which moved until his hand came to rest on Ethan’s left shoulder. The action was comforting to Ethan, enough so that he lowered his weapons.

And then many things happened.

Someone shot a man who had been bleeding from his neck (how had Ethan not seen that before?), several moved the bodies away, out of sight, as Rick and Morgan reunited and talked. Aaron moved towards his partner, Eric, as Daryl led Ethan to one of the houses in the community, only to be followed by a woman with short grey hair.

“What’s happening?” he asked dumbly, confused at what was going on around him.

“Dunno. Yer gonna stay at our house until we know what’s goin’ on,”

The woman moved her hand as if to touch Ethan, only for the boy to flinch away, shifting closer to Daryl. “The man Rick shot, he was abusing his wife, killed Reg,” she directed the last part to Daryl. “they’re going to move the bodies, clean away the blood and console Deanna and Jessie.”

“Shit hits the fan when I ain’t around,”

“Maybe I’m better off not being here,”

Daryl shook his head, grip tightening on Ethan’s shoulder. “Yeh not. Yer gonna stay here with us,” he said gruffly, leading them up the steps of a house, the woman opening the door ahead of them. As they entered, a boy rushed forwards to ask questions, only to pull out a knife and aim it at Ethan, looking like he had forgotten how he’d lowered his gun when hearing Ethan’s answers to the boy’s dad’s questions.

“Carl!” the woman snapped. “The boy is with us.”

“He’s the one who attacked me,” he said, looking offended over the fact that Ethan was in his house.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “I’ll fuckin’ do it again if you don’t lower your weapon,” he said sternly, pointing a finger at the boy.

“Give up, c’mon,” Daryl muttered, pulling Ethan away by the scruff of his neck, up the stairs and into the bathroom. “Towels are in there,” he said, gesturing towards a basket. He left, only to return a few moments later.

“Thanks?” said Ethan, not really sure what was going on. “Whose are these?”

The unimpressed look he got from Daryl was hilarious. “Guess,” he said before he left Ethan standing in the doorway, a little bit confused.

He shut the door and bolted it, feeling overwhelmed with everything that had just happened. Sighing, he took off his backpack and looked around, securing the bathroom before he begun to untie his boots, easing his aching feet out of them, feeling safe for the first time in a while. His feet felt sore and he saw blood from some blisters, which he ignored for the moment.

As Ethan undressed himself, he caught sight of himself in the mirror; his skin was covered in grime, hiding the true skin tone he had, but the grime couldn’t cover the bruises he had from the binder he wore on his chest – he’d worn it too long, had outgrown it. Looking at what he had done to himself, he called himself lucky that he hadn’t broken any bones from his misuse of it. He knew he’d have to give his chest a break unless he wanted his chest _to_ break. And then he had to take out his hearing aids.

The thought of removing them whilst in a house full of strangers made him feel vulnerable. But when he remembered that Daryl was there, he removed them. He’d spent many days with the man and trusted him. He could do this.

Deaf and nude, feeling weirdly exposed, Ethan got into the shower.


	5. Invasion's Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the chapters progress, there will be more parts from the show introduced into this fic like in this chapter. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave kudos and comments as I greatly appreciate the feedback!

The shower had been blissful, something Ethan couldn’t quite get his head around. _This place had hot water_. He never wanted to leave.

But he knew he was a burden on the people here, so showered as quickly as he could – scrubbing at his skin until it felt raw, all the dirt, grime and blood flowing down the drain, turning the water a gross sloppy brown. Ethan dowsed his hair in shampoo and conditioner, rubbing it all until the dirt had long since gone and felt the smoothest it had ever felt in the long years of the apocalypse. He couldn’t stop running his hands through his hair, amazed at how _clean_ it was. He lathered himself in bodywash, felt like he’d been drowning in it before he felt that his body was once again clean. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been truly clean.

And then, before he got out, he let the water simply spray in his face, revelling in this, because if it was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

Eventually, he climbed out and dried himself off, grabbing a sports bra to wear instead of the binder, because he knew his body needed to rest from being constricted for so long, but if he used anything else, he didn’t think his mind could take it. He grabbed some scissors that were on the sink and cut his hair messily. He’d never been the best with cutting stuff, never mind his own hair, but he thought he did an OK patch job. He dressed himself in the clothes that Daryl had given him and felt glee that they were boy clothes. _Carl’s clothes,_ a voice said in the back of his mind, as if that degraded the clothes any less. Carl’s clothes or not, they made him feel _real_.

Once he was fully dressed again, he snooped inside the cabinets in the bathroom and found, to his utter delight, an unopened toothbrush. He surmised he spent at least ten minutes brushing his teeth. Sure, he’d found other means to keep his hygiene up to the best that he could manage in the apocalypse, but it couldn’t beat an actual toothbrush and toothpaste.

He knew he had to go and leave the bathroom soon, so packed away most of his stuff and put his hearing aids back in, though didn’t know what to do with his dirty clothes, so kicked them towards the wash basket and clutched the straps of his backpack as he walked down the stairs, shoes tucked away in his bag, clean bare feet silent on the wood, the shadows hiding him from view.

“You and Aaron brought Ethan in?” he heard Rick ask, and he stopped in his spot on the stairs and turned the aids up a little bit more. “I thought he was looking for his brother?”

Daryl made a grunting noise. With his accent and the distance, it was difficult to hear what he said, but it sounded like, “He found a trail, went cold.”

Other people begun talking, but the sounds lapped over each other, incoherent to Ethan’s ears. Mustering up all the bravery he could, he walked down the rest of the stairs and pressed himself to the wall as he came into the light.

Everyone turned to look at him, the silence sudden and terrifying. “Don’t look like a boy, do you?” a man said first. He had a broad build and had ginger hair and an _incredible_ moustache.

“You don’t look like an asshole, but you fuckin’ sound it,” he retorted before he could stop himself. Instead of the man getting angry like Ethan had expected, the man laughed – loudly. It made his aids hurt him, so he quickly lowered the volume.

“You’re Ethan?” a woman asked – the one with dreadlocks. He nodded, eyes going around the room, seeing so many people. It was overwhelming. He saw that Carl still looked pissed. “I’m sorry you lost your brother,” she said sympathetically.

“Don’t be sorry until he’s dead.”

He wanted to leave. He glanced over at Daryl, who was already looking at him. The man seemed to be the only one who noticed just how stiff Ethan was, the discomfort and fear in his stance, how he held himself. Daryl moved over to him, pressed his arm against his, and the proximity of the two didn’t go unnoticed.

“Why’s he wearing my clothes?” asked Carl, getting most of the attention directed to him.

“Because flannel is gay culture,” Ethan said without thinking. Beside him, Daryl snorted.

There was a pause. Oh god, why did he say that? What even _possessed_ him to say that? He didn’t even know how these people felt about things like _that_.

“Think the kid’s gay,” Daryl clarified for the people of his group, and to top it off, Ethan did some finger guns, as he thought that he might as well go all in if he was going to act like this around these people. It eased away at his anxiousness though, and he picked at the skin on his thumb with the nail of his forefinger again without really noticing it.

“You gonna be staying?” the Spanish woman asked him.

He shrugged, not really sure himself. “Maybe. Depends.”

“On what?” the Korean guy asked. Ethan noted how he had a patched-up shoulder from a gunshot wound.

“Shit that goes down.”

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl kept within range of Ethan as the two ate, Morgan sitting on the opposite side of the table. Morgan said something to Rick, saying he was right. Ethan didn’t bother to pay attention, too caught up in the warm food he was eating.

“Ethan,”

At the mention of his name, Ethan looked up at Rick, chewing his food. “There ain’t enough room in this house for you and the rest of our group,”

“Can stay with Aaron and Eric,” Daryl grunted, nodding his head to the boy. Out of everyone there, Ethan had expected to understand Daryl the least from his heavy accent and grunted out words, but so far had only misheard a few words. “Carol’s already cleanin’ yer clothes, though it don’ look like there’s much savin’ ‘em.”

Ethan nodded, finishing up his meal, then pushed the bowl aside. Daryl copied his actions and led him out, grabbing his gear for him. They left the house without another word. Their trip to Aaron’s place was a short one, but the man was more than happy to let Ethan stay with him.

“Eric, this is Ethan, the boy I’ve told you about,” said Aaron, leading the boy into the living room. He awkwardly waved at the man who was resting his foot.

A memory flickered of the man hiding away under a car all that time ago. He didn’t bring it up, in case the two got mad at him, instead he nodded at the man politely.

“We have a spare room,” he told him, lifting himself up onto his feet. “You’re more than welcome to stay here with us for as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” said Ethan, not really sure what else he could say to the man. “Is it OK if I go up there now?”

The two men nodded, and Aaron led him up into their spare room. “I’ll let you get settled in.” he said, leaving the boy to his own devices.

He dropped his bag by the bedside table and looked around. It wasn’t the best room, but it was better than what his room had been before the apocalypse. The bed was comfy, though was a little stiff, but it was good enough for Ethan who pulled his BTEs off and turned them off. He laid down on the bed, face first into the pillow, hand holding onto the handle of a knife hidden beneath his pillow, and promptly passed out.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Ethan,”

The knife was pressed to the person’s throat instantly, the quick movement knocking the person to the ground. Ethan landed on top of the person, legs landing on either side of their waist.

“Whoa, it’s just me!” yelled Eric, hands raised in surrender against the floor. His voice loud enough for Ethan to hear without the aids.

“Shit, sorry, fuck!” he yelped and clambered off the man, coming to rest on the bed, putting the knife on the pillow. “I’m sorry,” he said, putting a hand to his forehead, heart feeling like it had flung itself into his throat.

Eric laughed, sitting up on the floor as Aaron burst into the room, looking frantic about his boyfriend – or husband, Ethan didn’t know. “What happened?” he demanded.

“I woke Ethan up, should’ve know better than to be so close. He pinned me down on reflex. We’re fine,” said Eric, and smiled at Ethan as Aaron helped him up. “I only woke you up because you’ve been asleep for over a while – I thought you’d be hungry.”

Ethan’s stomach took that as a cue to make a sound like a dying whale. “I think I am,” he said, earning huffs of laughs from the two men.

“I’ve been making breakfast, meet us downstairs when you’re ready for some food,” said Aaron, leading Eric out of the room, then popped his head back in. “There’s also fresh clothes in the drawer over there for you,” he said, smiling at the boy before he shut the door behind him.

“Fuck,” muttered Ethan, falling backwards onto the bed, pressing his hand to his face. He sighed before he got up and changed, feeling a little overwhelmed at the fact he had another lot of clothes to change into, after being so long without many.

The clothes were fresh and comfortable, and Ethan couldn’t help but sniff at the sleeve of the blue and grey flannel he was wearing. It smelled nice. He grabbed some new shoes – some boots that were in his size that Aaron seemed to have found – and found that they were far comfier than his old ones, which were old and peeled on the insides.

He walked down the stairs, his steps as silent as ever, then made his way through the living room and towards the dining table where Aaron and Eric were already sat, eating some breakfast that smelled too good to be true.

“You know, that bowl is for you,” said Aaron, gesturing with his spoon to the bowl opposite him. Ethan felt his eyebrows pull together as he moved forwards and sat down, his stomach physically aching from seeing so much food.

But he was still nervous to eat in front of the two men. So he did it as slowly as was acceptable, even though every fibre of himself was telling him to scoff it all down and demand seconds and thirds. Maybe even fourths. God, he was hungry – and from the looks of things, Aaron and Eric had expected as much. The two of them were trying to mask their amusement at how Ethan was eating, because he’d steadily lost all his table manners.

“I take it you enjoyed your meal?” asked Aaron, glancing over at Eric in a way that made Ethan feel like he wanted to squish their cheeks. He had to admit it, they were a power couple. If he ever wanted a relationship, he wanted it to be like theirs.

“Yes,” he said, sounding a little too eager. “It tasted great,”

They shared that look again, the one where they both smiled and _knew_ what they were both thinking. “Do you have any plans for today? No stabbing anyone, I hope?” Eric asked, smiling when he saw Ethan’s face flush red.

“Sorry about nearly stabbing you. Just a habit, I guess,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. The words didn’t come out quite right, but they got the gist of it. “Thought I might check the perimeter, or just let people get accustomed to seeing my face? Either that or I go over my few plans for going after Eli,” he said, not really sure as to what he was going to do.

“I recommend that you give yourself a break, see what the community has to offer. We’ll devise a plan on how to get to your brother once you’ve settled, alright?” said Aaron, somehow finding a way to calm Ethan’s nerves and make him feel comfortable – must’ve been one of the reasons why he’d decided to try this place out.

Ethan nodded, getting to his feet. “I guess I’ll look around, come back here later.”

Eric nodded and led Ethan out to the front door. “Hey, wait,” he said as Ethan went down the steps. He turned back to look at him. “If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, I’m gonna be in the house all day – my ankle still isn’t quite healed up from when I got a car pushed onto it.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

 

He ended up near the pond. Was that classed as a pond? It certainly couldn’t be classed as a lake. Maybe a small lake? Big pond? Ethan wasn’t too sure. It had water and was near the houses that Eric and Aaron were in and was nearby to Daryl’s place with his people.

Ethan hadn’t been sure what to do – a little overwhelmed and shocked at the normalcy of it all, but unwilling to go back to Aaron’s house just yet, he settled down nearby, the sun sinking into his skin.

“Mind if I sit?”

He looked up and saw it was the only other Korean guy in the community. “Go ahead,” he said, not quite sure what was happening, though, then again, he never really knew what was happening.

“I don’t think I told you my name – I’m Glenn, Glenn Rhee,”

“Ethan Dolori,” he replied, looking over at Glenn.

Glenn smiled – it was kind and almost pure? “Nice to meet you Ethan. Daryl told us a bit about you – so’s Rick and Carl,”

He nodded, making a humming noise as he leaned back on his hands. “Yeah, I bet they have.” He sighed and then looked over at Glenn. “What d’you want?”

The man shrugged his shoulders, though kept a steady gaze on Ethan. “I had some younger sisters. I don’t know if they survived the start of it all or not. I’ve never had the chance to go find them – it’s always been too dangerous to. To see you so determined to go after your brother, going on a near enough wild goose chase, it makes me wonder if I could’ve done this for my sisters,” he said.

Well shit, that was deep and emotional.

Ethan gave him a sort of sympathetic smile. “If it makes it any better, I could get killed doing this. Or get my face burned off,” he said, unable to stop the dry, sort of sad laugh that came out of his mouth. Oh no, he refused to cry. “My brother could be dead. He could’ve been hurt so bad and mutilated. He could be a fuckin’ walker and I’d probably never know.”

He had to stop so that he could compose himself. Glenn shifted over and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which had been enough to let a few tears fall. He had to be strong, always. His father always told him that boys couldn’t cry because that’d make them w _eakweakweak_.

But around this strange man, Glenn, he felt that he could be a little weak and still be a boy and still be strong in his own way. What was it with these strangers that always made him feel somewhat safe? Made him feel like he could let his guard down, even for a moment to cry?

He could trust four men – could maybe trust the rest of their group (except from the guy with the weird all business up front, party in the back hair). Maybe even the weird big ginger guy he’d accidentally insulted.

“Daryl told us some other stuff about you – with the binder,” said Glenn. Ethan froze, terror sinking in at the thought of other people knowing without him knowing they knew. But then he remembered he never told Daryl that what he wore was a _binder_ just something that constricted his chest. He looked at Glenn who offered him a smile even though Ethan’s mouth had run dry. “I had a friend who was like you. He was one of my best friends. The next time I go on a run, I’ll try and find you another one. Daryl said you liked to keep a spare with you.”

To say that Ethan was touched was an understatement. “Thanks, Glenn,” he said, genuinely meaning it. There was something about Glenn that he could trust – he felt that the man would do anything for those he cared about, and even the ones he didn’t, or simply didn’t know.

In a quick moment, Ethan decided he’d try to save Glenn’s life if it meant giving up his own.

The two sat together in a companionable silence – it might’ve been seconds, minutes or even hours, the two weren’t sure. There was an obvious mutual trust between the two, and Ethan revelled in it. It wasn’t something he felt with Aaron, Eric or Daryl, though it was similar, if different.

“What do you think of this place?” Glenn asked, eventually breaking the silence between them. He looked over to the younger boy, squinting from the sun.

Ethan shrugged, glancing around their immediate area. “It’s OK, I guess. I don’t particularly know anything or anyone around here. But the walls are alright, even if they’re easy to climb over,”

“They’re easy to climb over?” repeated Glenn, eyebrows pulling together in a frown.

“Well. Yeah. The support beams on the other side of the walls looked pretty easy to climb over, and when Aaron, Daryl, Morgan and I came, I climbed over the front gate to get us in. If anyone else wanted to get in, I’m sure they could find some other weak spots, where the guards on the walls can’t see that well. If it’d been me, I would’ve put those support beams on the inside, because then the walkers would push against the beams and keep them steady in the ground.” He shrugged his shoulders, biting his lip a little. “I mean, the beams could just as easily collapse on the inside as on the outside, but in here, you have a better visual on the beams and can see when they start to weaken instead of when it’d be too late.”

Glenn made a noise like a breath of laughter. “You should’ve been here when the walls were being put up – Reg could’ve needed your input,”

“Is that the guy that died that night? The old one?”

“Yeah. Pete, the surgeon, cut his throat with Michonne’s sword and Deanna told Rick to kill Pete. You arrived just after he got shot.”

Ethan nodded. “Not a night I can forget,” he said quietly.

Then footsteps sounded from behind the two, and Ethan heard them a moment after Glenn, who had turned his head to look in the direction as Ethan tensed up and shifted so that his back wasn’t facing the person. It was Rick.

“We need to do a meeting – now,” he said to Glenn, barely giving Ethan a spare glance.

“What’s happening?” he asked, coming to a stand beside Glenn. “If shit’s going down, I think I should be allowed to know,” he said, raising an eyebrow in a challenge to either of the men.

Rick sighed deeply through his nose, running a bandaged hand over his plastered face. God, he looked ridiculous with all those plasters on his face. “I don’ wanna worry –”

“Rick. I’ve been out there a lot longer than you. Nothing worries me apart from my little brother – and since he’s not with us at the moment, whatever you say ain’t gonna worry me,”

He looked like he was stressed out of his mind – whether because of what he needed to hold a meeting for, or because of Ethan’s words. Maybe both.

Eventually, the man gave in. “Alright. Come with us,” he said, turning on his heel to lead the way to one of the houses. Ethan wasn’t sure who it belonged to.

It turned out to be nothing good.

As soon as the three had entered, Eric had walked over to Ethan and led him over to where he and Aaron had been standing, keeping an arm around his shoulders. The tension was thick in the air and Ethan felt uncomfortable. There were so many adults in here, why did he think it was a good idea to come with? But he never really got on with other people his age, bar Enid, so he guessed he had to endure it.

Rick spoke of a huge herd in a camping grounds nearby, though was apparently in the opposite direction to DC, which had to be why no-one from Alexandria had found out about it.

“Why didn’t you go back?” he asked the guy with tied up dreadlocks – he’d been part of Alexandria’s supply group or whatever. Ethan didn’t really pay much attention. “I mean, if it were me, and I had a firm residence near the camp that ate itself, I’d go back to the camp and get rid of the walkers before they brought a massive fucking herd on us.”

The man gave him an insulted look. “Listen, kid, I dunno what you’ve been doing here –”

“Sleeping. Been out there since the shit hit the fan. You learn not to do dumb as fuck shit out there,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Enough,” said Rick, cutting off the conversation before he started asking for volunteers to go help disperse the herd from heading straight towards Alexandria and kill them all.

Aaron, Eric and even Daryl from his perch on the windowsill gave Ethan a look that told him he wasn’t allowed to be part of the teams helping to get rid of the walkers. Not fair. So had to watch everyone set out plans, whilst someone – Carter? – looked suspicious of Rick’s plans, not wanting to deal with so many walkers.

Ethan knew he’d die. It was written all over the man’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

“Be safe,” said Ethan, looking at Glenn with an intensity in his gaze. “We need to combine our Korean powers and scare everyone,”

That got a rough laugh out of the man. He put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and offered him a smile. “Of course. I’ll be back before you know it. It’s only a dry run, after all,”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at the man. “It’s just a dry run, he says,”

“Don’ do anythin’ dumb while I ain’ ‘ere,” came Daryl’s instructions. Glenn and Ethan shared a brief nod to each other before Glenn went over to his wife and Ethan to Daryl. “I mean it,” he told him, slinging his crossbow onto his back.

“Don’t get killed out there,” he said, feeling something weird in his chest. He had an inkling as to what it was, but he didn’t want to face it at the moment.

Daryl gave him a stiff nod, glancing around him to where Aaron and Eric were no doubt standing. “See youse,”

“See ya,” he said quietly, then watched as the people drove off out of Alexandria, towards the biggest herd any of them had ever seen.

Ethan had a bad feeling about the day.

He turned around and walked towards the two men who had been blatantly waiting for him and let them lead him back to their house, aware of Carl’s gaze on him. He’d seen the boy looking at him as he and Glenn had been talking. He supposed the boy was still weary of him – he had after all punched him in the throat and appeared around the corners near him ever since that incident.

He ought to try and repair whatever remains were between them if he was going to stay at the community. But for now, he allowed the two men to lead him back to their house. Was it also his house? Or was he just a guest for an unknown amount of time? The questions begun to flood his brain and it took all he had not to get overwhelmed by it.

Once they were inside, he went and sat on the sofa, thoughts clouding him.

“You alright?” asked Eric, sitting beside him on the sofa, though kept a distance between them, probably wary of when he woke Ethan up.

“Why’re you letting me stay here?” he asked, frowning as he looked at the man beside him, aware of Aaron sitting on the arm beside Eric. “You don’t know me.” _You don’t know what I’m capable of,_ he thought to himself, nail going to the skin of his thumb again.

“I might not, but Aaron certainly seems to think he does,” said Eric, with a sort of fond tone at the mention of his boyfriend – or husband, whatever they were. Ethan was too nervous to ask him about it.

He looked up at Aaron, who looked to have been expecting this. “Well, you’re like us, in a sense. An outsider. There are certain parts to you that make you as much an outsider to the others as we are to them.”

“Because they’re homophobic dicks?”

Aaron chuckled, dipping his head in a nod before he looked back up to meet Ethan’s gaze. “We didn’t know if anyone else aside from Rick’s group would’ve let you stay with them – only myself and Daryl really knew you, and you did look pretty damn terrifying covered in blood and dirt. While you’d been in the shower when you first got here, I talked to Daryl and he said we might’ve been the next best thing for you if you couldn’t stay with him. We know you’re capable of looking after yourself, hell, you took down twenty walkers by yourself, I’m sure you’d get through something like that big herd in the quarry with relative ease.”

He doubted the last part. “But you’re acting as if you two and Daryl are my guardians or some shit,”

The look on Eric’s face turned Ethan’s attention onto him. “You’re just a kid – hurt and probably a lot more dangerous than us, granted, but you’re a kid nonetheless. You’re like us, Daryl told us when you’d been asleep yesterday, thought that we’d be better at helping you than him.”

“But … I thought Daryl was gay too?” Ethan asked slowly. He’d been a little suspicious on that thought for a while now but hadn’t known how to branch the subject towards the man, so let it simmer in the back of his mind. Talking to people wasn’t Ethan’s strongpoint, and didn’t look like Daryl’s either.

The amusement on the two men’s faces wasn’t fair. “That’s for him to decide on. Whether he acknowledges that his sexuality might not be hetero or not, that’s for him to discover. We can’t assume anything of him,”

He had to admit that the two did have a point. “You assumed right on me being a boy, though,” he said, the words quieter than he had anticipated. He barely heard himself. “Other groups think I’m a girl,”

“Well, other groups are stupid.” Eric said, as if that was obvious and final. “You’re gonna be whatever you wanna be, whatever you really are. No-one can change you or force you to be anything less of it.”

Ethan nodded, emotions building up too much. “You guys are really in it for the big speeches, huh?”

The three shared a laugh, if a little wet and emotional.

 

* * *

 

 

Aaron and Eric had left a little while after that, Eric needing some painkillers from the surgeon office house thing. Ethan thought he should’ve gone with them but acknowledged that he needed some time to himself to recollect himself and think through what had been said to him. It was only just settling in that he was so unbelievably lucky to have come across Daryl, Aaron, Eric and the others when he had. He knew that there were other people still out there that would kill him if they ever knew what he was.

He’d even been visited by a nice woman named Jessie who had offered to clean up his haircut – she’d apparently been a hairdresser amongst other things before the apocalypse. Though he didn’t trust her entirely, she didn’t set him on edge, so had allowed her to cut his hair. She’d spoken about everything apart from her husband – who Ethan quickly realised was the Pete guy who’d killed the Reg guy. He didn’t bring up how Rick killed her husband for killing another person’s husband, instead answered her questions about being outside the walls, though did soften his answers when it came to the truly brutal parts.

He had liked it, getting to know her – she apparently had a son called Ron around his age, and a younger one called Sam who didn’t like the walkers. It was weird to think of a kid so sheltered by the walls and his family that he was scared of the herd that could tear the place apart.

Deep down, he knew Eli wouldn’t have been scared. Eli would’ve been brave and fought tooth and nail to make sure he’d survive any and all possibilities of the herd. He’d taught Eli to survive like that. He didn’t like thinking of it, but he knew Jessie’s younger son didn’t have many – if any at all – survival instincts or tactics. He didn’t want to think about a child being killed in the apocalypse.

Soon enough, Jessie had left, thanking him for trusting her and letting her talk to him. He’d brushed it off, though had to secretly admit that talking to someone else other than the three men he knew was a little relaxing. It made life feel almost normal and peaceful, like the world hadn’t gone to shit, like the walkers weren’t trying to find and kill them – like Aaron and Eric were his family, if he could give them such a big label so early into their acquaintance. Thinking about family was tough.

Everything had been peaceful for the boy in Alexandria, until, of course, it wasn’t.

Ethan heard screaming and looked around before he ran back inside the house, leapt up the stairs and grabbed his backpack, pulling out his gun from it, slipping it into the holster on his thigh. He ran over to the window and saw people running around with machetes in their hands. He opened up the window of his bedroom and clambered out of it, body so tense it hurt to move.

He took a running jump and landed on the house beside Aaron and Eric’s, and then did the same until he’d gotten to Daryl’s house, slipping in through the window, locking the latch behind him. He left the room at the same moment that Carl came running out of his room, nearly knocking into the boy.

“What’re you doing here?” he demanded.

“Protecting the baby, duh,” he said, slipping past him and down the stairs to see Carol. “They’re getting in over the walls, I don’t think they’ve got guns – I saw them with melee weapons,” he told her.

“You two stay inside, protect Judith.” she said to the boys.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Carol ran out the door. Ethan walked over and locked it, then turned and looked back at Carl, who was holding the gun in Ethan’s direction. “Really? Again?”

“How do I know you’re not with those people?” he asked, taking a step towards Ethan, who held his hands up in a surrender. “You hang around this place for a while before coming in with Daryl and Aaron, for all we know, you’ve been scoping the place out for your group.”

Ethan snorted. “All I want to do is find my brother,”

“You really think you can fool me?”

“You’re fooling yourself.” Ethan retorted. “I’ve been around Aaron and Daryl for hours – days – outside the walls. I could’ve killed them then, but I didn’t. Those people, they have a ‘W’ scarred into their foreheads – do I fuckin’ look like I do?”

Carl looked like he was struggling, Ethan took a few steps forwards. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t have to trust me, but I want to make sure that baby – Judith – is safe. She matters the most right here, right now,” he took another few steps forwards, the barrel of the gun touching his chest, “because if I can’t find Eli just yet, I’m gonna protect and save that little girl.”

He could see the torment in Carl’s face, and then took the chance to take hold of the barrel of the gun and gently knocked it aside. Now he was close to Carl, in his personal space a little bit; he noted how he was a little taller than the other boy. “If you want, you can trust me for now. I know how you feel – the older brother having to protect the younger sibling, wanting nothing more for them to be safe, because they mean more than you, _so much more_ , because they’re young, innocent and the best damn thing to ever fuckin’ happen to you – to _us_ – so, please, you can trust me until all those assholes are dead, then you can go back to not trusting me. And hating me, by the looks of it. But I’m gonna stay here and protect her for as long as I have to.”

Carl nodded, lowering his head for a second before he looked back up at Ethan, their eyes locking. “I trust you.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was a rattle at the door, like keys going into the lock, and Ethan was already up, moving to the other side, nearer to the kitchen, handgun raised as Carl raised his own, bigger gun. “Ever think you’re over compensating with that?” Ethan whispered to him, smirking a little at the confused look on the boy’s face before the door opened, and a girl walked in.

She turned around to look at the two, shock and surprise on her face. “Ethan,”

“Enid. Nice to see you again,” he said as she locked the house door again.

“Why didn’t you knock?” asked Carl as he walked back into the living room.

Enid held up her hand, showing them the keys. “Because I had these. And I wanted to say goodbye,”

“Oh no, teenage angst,” Ethan muttered as he stood near Carl, staring out of the window, gun placed in his hands, backpack a heavy weight on his back. He didn’t want to go through with listening to their shit; he had better things to do like making sure these people weren’t going to get in the house and kill them.

“OK, watch the back door, tell me if they’re coming,” said Carl, looking through to one of the doors that led outside.

The girl shook her head in time for Ethan to see. “I’m not staying.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” the two boys said in near tandem, sharing a little look between them.

“Sit down. You’re helping us protect Judith. They’re not getting inside this house. We’re not gonna let them. Did you see them?” Carl asked Enid, looking like he was determined to put an end to the idea of Enid leaving.

“They’re just people. This place is too big to protect. There are too many blind spots. That’s how we were able to …”

Ethan rolled his eyes, looking out of the window into the fray outside. “Quit your dramatic teenage angst. We’ve got a baby girl to protect. Save it for when the shit is over, yeah?” he snapped, looking over his shoulder at the two sat in the middle of the floor. He turned back to look outside. “Straight people, honestly.”

“Don’t tell me goodbye,” he heard Carl mutter quietly, like he didn’t want Ethan to hear him.

“OK. I won’t.” She looked over at Ethan. “I didn’t know you were here now.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t think I would be. But a sort of secure base is a good one to come back to. ‘Sides, Daryl, Aaron and Eric are the only people I trust,” he said glancing back at the two before he looked back out the window.

“Don’t you trust me?” she asked, an undertone in her voice that had him smirking.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not in the slightest.”

“Slut,”

“Douchebag,”

There was a silence between the three as they could only listen to the sounds of death outside of their house. It felt like it was going on for hours, the seconds dragging by like days at a time. It was excruciating, to hear people dying outside whilst they stayed inside in relative safety. And then they heard a crash and a horn that would _not_ stop.

“Oh, fuck,” said Ethan, turning back to look at the two. “I’m gonna go outside and check what’s happening,” he said.

The two stood up, looking at him incredulously. “Like hell you are!” Carl snapped.

“Bitch, I’ll not be gone long,” he said, then he opened the window and jumped out of it before the two could get another word in, sprinting off towards the sound. As he ran, he nearly collided with someone, then raised his gun.

“Ethan!” It was Aaron. “Get back inside.”

“No, you! You’re not safe here,”

He shook his head, grabbing the boy’s shoulder. “Neither are you,”

“But I’ve been outside these walls longer than you. I can do this.” he said. “We don’t have time for this,” he snapped, then pushed Aaron to the ground, narrowly avoiding the axe that had come swinging at them. Ethan rolled onto his back and shot the man through the throat, then again in the forehead.

“We need to get rid of these people,”

“We need to kill them.” Ethan corrected, yanking Aaron up to his feet, then the two ran to the closest attackers. “Where’s Eric?”

“Safe.”

Ethan ran up to the closest attacker and jumped onto their back, nozzle of the gun pressed to their ear before he shot them. As the body fell beneath him, he raised his gun again and shot the remaining people. He turned to look at Aaron as he readjusted his aids, they’d slipped loose during his attack on the intruders. “What was that horn?”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know – Rosita went to check it out.”

“Go and find Rosita,” he said. If she was going to find out, he’d know through her herself or Aaron.

He nodded, though didn’t look happy with it. Aaron ran off in one direction as Ethan ran in another – back towards the house where Enid and Carl were. God, he hoped they weren’t being stupid.

As he got closer, he saw a boy – Jessie’s son – and a man was behind him. “HEY, FUCKER!” he shouted, running towards the man, who ran towards him, machete raised above his head. Ethan dropped to his knees and skidded on the grass, sliding between the man’s legs, then turned and raised his gun and shot the man in the back. He touched his ears and found his aids had dropped out. He pushed the man over and grabbed them from where they had been beneath him, shoving them back in his ears.

He looked up at the boy. “Go in Carl’s house – now,” he said, ignoring the man’s moans, unaware of the blood splatter on his own face. “You’ll be safe there.” And then he shot the man in the head, shutting him up for good before he got any bright ideas.

“No,” the boy said, then started to run off, but Ethan quickly grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back to him, so their faces were inches apart.

“This isn’t a fucking _game_ , asshole. Do you want to fucking die? You’ll get everyone fucking killed if you don’t listen to me. So get in the goddamn house before I break your legs and drag you in there myself.” Ethan snapped.

The boy shook himself out of Ethan’s grip. “I’m going to my house.” he said venomously, then ran off.

Ethan looked up to see Carl and Enid watching him. “You should come back inside with us,” said Carl, holding out his hand, the large gun in the other. Ethan looked to the boy’s retreating form, then back to Carl. He accepted his hand and the two walked back into the house.

“Here,” said Carl, handing Ethan a wipe. He took it and rubbed it on his face, the dampness welcome. “You were like a _fucking ninja_ out there,” he said, much to Ethan’s amusement. “And … I’ll trust you, after this raid is over,” he said quietly. “You’ve proven yourself even though you didn’t have to.”

“Fuck no, I didn’t have to.” He pulled the wipe away and saw it turned a weird maroon colour from the blood. “Any better?”

Carl chuckled. He grabbed another wipe and moved over to him and rubbed at a part of Ethan’s forehead; the action was alien to Ethan, with the boy in his personal space with an ease no-one had ever had around him. He supposed he really had earned Carl’s trust. Not knowing what to do, he turned his eyes away from Carl, only to spot Enid looking at the two.

Eventually, the boy moved away from him, binning the bloodied wipe. “Go check on your sister,” said Ethan. Carl nodded and slipped away up the stairs. A moment later, Enid was in front of Ethan. “You’re leaving now, right?” he asked. She nodded. “You come to say goodbye?”

“If you want to hear it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “You want to hear it?”

He took his turn to shrug his shoulders. “We have an awful luck of bumping into each other a lot outside those walls. This is just a short goodbye,” he said. Enid smiled at him, shaking her head minutely.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then slipped a note into his hand. “Goodbye, for a short while, then.”

He smiled at her, then kissed her forehead. “Goodbye, for a short while.” he echoed.

Not a moment after that, she was gone. Ethan huffed out a sigh, he knew he’d see her again, someday. They always met each other.

Carl returned not too long after. “She’s still asleep,” he said, then looked around the house. “Where’s Enid?” he asked. Ethan held out the note, knowing who it was really for. The fellow boy took it and read the words on it. He bit his lip and turned around, but Ethan saw the flash of hurt and the tears in the boy’s eyes. Carl shoved the note into Ethan’s hands as a timer alarm began to sound.

Carl walked over to it and turned it off, taking out some food from the oven. “Are you gonna go too?” the boy asked, keeping his back to Ethan.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, uncertain. Carl shook his head. “She was my friend too,” he offered. “She has her own way of saying stuff,”

“Yeah, I get that. But she didn’t have to leave.”

Ethan held in the sigh. Ah, teenage angst, there was so much of it. He hoped he’d escaped that when the apocalypse hit. “She didn’t have to leave, but it’s what she wants. I didn’t have to come with Daryl and Aaron, but I wanted to.”

“You want to be here? After seeing everything just happen?” asked Carl.

“Well, I’m gonna need help in finding my brother, right?”

Carl chuckled, a hurt and wet laugh. “Do … do you have any pictures of your brother?”

The other boy nodded, slipped a hand into his back pocket and pulled out two. One was old and frayed, another a little newer. He handed them over to Carl. “The first one … it’s from before. Back when shit was simpler. He must’ve been, what, six? And then the other one, I found an old polaroid camera. It still worked, so we took a picture together. It must’ve been a week after … well, a week after I’d cut my hair and we ran from our dad and the group we’d been with.”

Carl caught on to Ethan’s sentence change. “Why’d you say you cut your hair?”

“Because if I said that it was the week after I changed my name, told my brother he’s got an older brother, not an older sister, I think you’d find it weird.”

He didn’t look at Carl, knowing he was staring at him. “You used to be a girl?”

“No. When I was born, I had … certain parts that are assigned to girls. But I’m not a girl. I’m a boy. That’s how I see it. Do you get that?”

Carl nodded. “So, you were born with some of the wrong stuff. My dad says that people like you are like marble sculptures,” he said. Ethan looked up at him, confusion etched into his face. Carl grinned a little, shifting his weight on his feet. “Well. When you sculpt marble, the sculpture is already there hidden beneath it, inside of you, so who you really are and what your mind really is. He just tells me that you’re just getting rid of the parts that aren’t you so that you can be what you really are.”

Ethan pressed his lips together, trying really hard not to cry. “Carl, I do believe that’s the nicest thing you, or anyone, has ever said about me.”

“Why, what do people usually say about you?”

He shrugged, still unable to meet Carl’s eyes. “Well, I look more Korean than Caucasian, right? I think you can take it from there,”

Carl handed him back the pictures, then grabbed his wrist. Ethan looked up at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does your dad know?” he whispered, and Ethan realised just how close they were. It scared him, but he couldn’t move away.

“Yes. But unlike your dad, he doesn’t think of me as a marble sculpture yet to be finished,” he said, unsure of why he was talking as quietly as Carl. “He … he isn’t good. And if, when I go and find Eli, he recognises me, sees what I’ve done to myself, the changes I’ve made, then I’ll die. I fucked up in his eyes too many times, so if he sees this, he’ll either put a bullet in my mouth, or beat me to the point where he won’t have to waste one.”

Oh god, why did he just tell Carl that? He pulled away from the boy, breathing a little shakily. The fear was setting in, but he had to try not to let it sink its claws into his skin.

“We won’t let him touch you, let alone hurt you.” Carl promised, then pulled Ethan to him in a hug. The action surprised Ethan, and it took him a moment to wrap his arms around the other boy, who had already put his around Ethan’s back. “I promise. I won’t let him come near you. Aaron, Daryl my dad, my group, they won’t let him come near you.”

“Thanks,”

 

* * *

 

 

“OPEN THE GATE!”

“Was that your dad?” asked Ethan, looking at Carl, who promptly stood up, the two running out of the house, Carol staying behind with Judith. She’d not commented on how Ethan had gotten into the house or why he’d stayed with them.

As the two sprinted around the corner, they saw the gates shutting, with a herd of walkers pressing against it. Carl grabbed Ethan’s forearm, slowing the two to a stop. They both looked at each other, and Ethan had a good assumption that his fear was mirrored in Carl’s face.

“We are _so_ fucked,” Ethan told him.

“We’re fucked,” he repeated.

They stood near some of the panels of the wall as Rick begun a speech. Rick seemed like the type to enjoy speeches. Maybe it was an Alexandrian thing.

“You can hear it,” he said loudly as he neared the people.

“Why is he shouting like that? Won’t it attract more walkers, or, I dunno, piss them off enough to try and get in?” Ethan whispered into Carl’s ear, arms crossed over his chest.

“Shut up!” hissed Carl, though he did look a little amused.

Ethan rolled his eyes, turning his attention back onto his friend’s dad. Were he and Carl friends? They certainly trusted each other after the events of the day.

“Some of you saw it. They got back here, half of them. Still enough to surround us twenty deep. Look, I know you’re scared. You haven’t seen anything like this. You haven’t been through anything like this.” said Rick as he walked into the middle of the group that had surrounded the area of the weakest panel – the one the truck had hit. “But we’re safe for now. The panel the truck hit seems intact. We reinforced it just in case. Either way, the wall’s gonna hold together. Can you?”

Ethan sighed. “They can’t,” he whispered to Carl, who nodded his head once, eyes meeting Ethan’s.

Rick continued on, “The others, they’re gonna be back.”

“They’re gonna be back.” Rosita repeated with a firm nod of her head.

“Daryl, Abraham, Sasha, they have vehicles. They’re gonna lead ‘em away, just like the others. And Glenn and Nicholas are gonna back through the front gate after. They know what they’re doing, and we know what we need to do. We keep noise to a minimum, pull our blinds at night, even better, keep the lights out. We gotta keep this place as quiet as a graveyard, see if they move on.” Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes – if they were supposed to keep noise to a minimum, then why was Rick more or less _shouting_ about it right next to the walls, where the walkers could hear them and know that they were very much alive inside? He shook his head, wondering how he’d been able to survive for so long if he was doing stupid shit like this.

“This place is a graveyard.” One of the people of Alexandria said. Ethan looked at her but didn’t know her face.

Then Aaron moved forwards from his place beside Eric, and Ethan got a sudden sense of dread in his stomach. The look on Aaron’s face made Ethan feel uneasy. “The quarry broke open and those walkers were heading this way. All of them. The plan that Rick put into place stopped that from happening. He got half of them away,” he said, and Ethan noticed how his hands were tensing into fists. “I was out there, recruiting with Daryl – the day we brought Ethan back, I wanted to try and get into a cannery and scavenge. Daryl and Ethan wanted to continue and scavenge. We did what I wanted.”

Ethan’s stomach did a weird flop at the mention of himself. He wanted to keep out of these people’s business; but then again, since he appeared to be living there now, these people were his people, making their business his. Great.

He watched as Aaron looked back to Eric before he continued. “And we wound up in a trap set by those people. They must’ve followed our tracks. Those people who attacked us … they found their way back here because of me.” he said, which had been enough for the leader, Deanna, to walk off.

“There’ll be more to talk about,” said Rick. Ethan slipped away from Carl’s side to Aaron’s, putting a hand on his arm as the others called out for their leader.

“It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve grabbed your pack; I didn’t get caught in the car, I could’ve got it,” he said softly. “Fault’s on me, you and Daryl. Don’t think you can carry it all. Everyone fucks up. I’ve fucked up worse,”

Eric appeared on Aaron’s other side, smiling slightly. “Ethan’s right. You don’t have to blame everything on yourself.”

“And fuck Deanna too. Did you see her fucking face? I’m tempted to smash it in.”

The two shook their heads at the boy’s choice of words. “Come on, let’s go back to the house,” said Eric, walking over to put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders. He led the boy away as Aaron watched them go. As he looked around, he saw Carl watching him too.


	6. Tumble Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More TV dialogue and action. Talking of the TV show, I have no way of watching season 9 (curse you for not being on Netflix!) so I am to Suffer. Gotta love uni life.  
> Enjoy!

Ethan decided that Eric was a good person. He was nice and easy to talk to, and definitely made Ethan feel welcome, valid.

But Ethan was restless, and Eric could see it too. He’d been inside the walls for too long for him to be comfortable.

“Go for a walk,” said Eric, seeing Ethan eye the knife on the table, his fingers twitching on the tablecloth. “It might not be what you need, but it’s all you can do at the moment,”

“Thanks. I’ll try not to be too long,” he said, snatching up the knife before he got up and left the house.

He walked around for a little bit, feeling the wind on his face, the sunlight seeping into his skin. And then he could hear arguing. “Just my luck,” he muttered as he got closer, only to see Jessie’s boy and Carl scuffling for a few seconds before Carl pushed him over. He walked over to them, partly amused by the stupid sight he’d just seen. That was the worst fight he’d ever witnessed, he could barely class it as one.

“I’ll tell your dad,” the boy said from his spot on the ground. “He’ll go out there to find you, then other people will too. And then somebody’s gonna die. Huh?” the boy looked up. “You saved my life and now I’m saving yours.”

“Actually, Ethan saved your life,” said Carl, looking over at the boy in question. Ethan raised his eyebrow at his friend, glanced over at the boy on the floor. “C’mon, dude,” he said.

“My god. Sometimes I regret being associated with boys like you,” he said, though did walk after Carl. “What’s that guy’s name?” he asked once they were further away from him.

“Who, Ron?”

Ethan gave him a look. “No, the tsar of Russia,” he said sarcastically. “He’s called Ron?” Carl nodded. “I think Ron’s a bit thick.”

Carl laughed a little as they walked back up the street Ethan had just walked down. “Will you come with me? I think Enid’s over the wall, trapped out there,”

He shook his head. “Enid went willingly. She knows what she’s doing, even around a herd like that. We used to meet up a bit every day, every few days. I knew what she was doing, she knew what I was doing. There’s a reason both of us survived after being alone for so long.”

“What if she’s hurt?”

Ethan came to a stop, touched Carl’s arm so he’d stop and turn and face him. “Listen, me and Enid stayed in a building not too far from here – well, distance isn’t my forte since I under and overestimate them – but we’d both secured it, knew to go there if we wanted to see each other. She’ll be there, where it’s safe. If the walkers are near there, then she’ll have found a way in without them seeing her. Don’t underestimate her. Seems like the one thing I don’t under or overestimate is people, so don’t you start it.”

He sighed at the look on Carl’s face. “Don’t be stupid. We’re staying until the herd is gone.”

Carl shook his head. “I can see it in your face – you wanna be out there too. Why?”

“Because being in here feels _wrong_. Being out there, I knew what I was doing. I was in control in my own way, knew what I was doing because it was just me and the consequences for my actions would only affect me. In here, it feels like I’m not safe, like these people could turn on me, that if I fuck up, there’s other people’s lives on the line. I don’t work well with people – I’m used to working alone now, maybe with one or two people. Being out there – that’s who I am.”

The boy beside him made a noise that might have been a sort of laugh. “You sound like Daryl,”

“Shut up,” he muttered, walking forwards, gently bumping his shoulder into Carl’s. “You heading back to your place, or do you wanna come with me?”

“Depends on where you’re going,”

“Rooftops, though don’t know which.” He looked over at Carl, who smiled and nodded. “C’mon, loser.”

 

* * *

 

 

Night had long since fallen, and the two were still up on Aaron and Eric’s roof, looking up at the sky, ignoring the sounds of the walkers in the distance.

“Ethan?”

“I swear to God, if you fucking bring up Enid one more time, I will throw you off the roof,” he threatened. “What?” he asked after a moment, turning to look at the boy.

Carl pursed his lips together. “No, I was just thinking. Do you think we’ll survive the herd?”

He contemplated his answer. “Depends. The people have to ration their food, keep their heads on straight – and hope to hell that the tower doesn’t fall from where the truck hit it. If the walkers get in, we cover ourselves in guts, hide it out and leave the area. I dunno if the place will keep standing.” Ethan cracked his fingers. “Do you? Think the place will stand?”

“It’s gotta.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

The boy beside him sighed, turning to look back up into the starry sky. “It should, I mean, we’ve fought so much for this. We aren’t letting it go that easily.”

Sitting up, Ethan turned back to look at his friend. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. And talking about sleep – I’m off for some, so fuck offa my roof, bitch,”

“Eloquent as always, friend,” said Carl, though did deign to climb off the roof, sliding down the side and out of sight, though not before giving Ethan a two-finger salute.

“Idiot boy,” he said to himself before he climbed down into his bedroom, shutting the window behind him, falling face first onto the bed, knife tucked underneath the pillow as his hearing aids fell out. He pulled them off the pillow, turned them off and put them on the bedside table.

Sleep didn’t come easy for the deaf boy, but that was nothing new for him. He was just thankful to have a few hours rest, even if he woke up and spent more time away staring at the ceiling than he did resting.

The next day, Ethan felt off.

“Stay inside,” he told the two men when he went downstairs the next day, chest feeling heavy.

“We can’t go outside of the walls –”

He shook his head, hands jerking. “No, I mean stay inside the house. I’ve got a bad feeling,” he said.

Eric and Aaron gave him nearly matching smiles, the latter reaching out to touch Ethan’s arm gently. “We’re gonna be alright,” he said. “We’re being cautious, the herd will pass eventually.”

“But that fuckin’ tower ain’t gonna wait until they pass. Last night, I saw it – it doesn’t look like it’s gonna hold up for as long as everyone thinks. Is it only me that sees we’re fucked?”

“Hey, no, we’re not gonna die,”

He turned his gaze downward, trying to compose himself before he spoke again. “I’m not saying we’re gonna die, I’m saying that the tower is gonna collapse _sooner_ rather than later while that damn herd is still there. So just …  just stay inside the house. Sick of people dying.”

To his surprise, Eric stood up and walked over to him, putting his hands on Ethan’s shoulders, bringing his attention to his face. “Rick and the others, they’re gonna figure out a way to disperse the herd and get the others back inside.”

“I don’t think you get it – that truck hit the tower, and now there’s walkers herding around it, pushing against it and now that it’s unstable, it’s only a matter of time before it goes down and brings all of those things in. And you two should stay safe, because you know I’m right.”

The silence that followed his words was heavy.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan had long since gone up onto the roof again after an emotional scene with Aaron and Eric, who had both been kind to him. It was a little weird, but it had been nice to have. As he looked out into the sky beyond the herd, he saw several green balloons flying in the sky, and Maggie, in the distance, looked shocked. He supposed it must’ve been Glenn. And then, what he had told Eric and Aaron happened – the fucking tower collapsed.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, grabbing his gun as he crouched on the roof, backpack slung onto his back. In the distance, he could see Carl staring at the falling tower. He didn’t hesitate to jump down and race towards him, the binding on his chest long forgotten as he tried to reach his friend as the dust from the collapse blew upwards.

“Carl!” he shouted as he neared, grabbing his arm and pulled him away from the mess as walkers came in. Ethan saw Ron holding a gun from where he’d stood behind Carl. “You too, asshole,” he said, pushing Carl in the back to get him moving.

“My dad –”

“Fine, hurry,” he said, nearly unaware of how Carl had kept a tight hold of his hand. The two, with Ron in tow, caught up to Rick and Deanna, following Gabriel and Michonne.

The walkers begun to encase the group, but Ethan was already cutting a way through them, right as a bullet was shot into his shoulder. “Fuck!” he yelled, hand covering the wound as he looked up to see Jessie’s horrified face. “Fuckin’ A,” he said as he and the others followed Jessie into her house, something about having the baby, Judith.

He immediately started to barricade the front door with help from Rick and Michonne, only to get pulled aside by Carl. The pain in his shoulder was almost blinding, white-hot and ever present. He had to keep pressure on the wound.

“Ethan, I am so sorry,” said Jessie, a frantic look on her face.

“Tis but a flesh wound,” he said quietly, easing off the flannel, pushing aside what remained of the binder strap, the bullet having gone straight through it. “Can’t believe this shit,” he said, pulling at the strap, shifting away from them as he pulled open the closest packs to find haircutting scissors and tweezers before Ron and Carl grabbed him and pulled him up the stairs after Michonne and Rick, who’d been carrying Deanna.

“W-wh-what’re you gonna do?” Ron stammered out as Ethan sat on a bedside table, pulling out the tweezers from the pack, backpack thrown onto the bed.

He looked up and gave him an unimpressed look. “Carl, help me get the flannel off,” he said, and the boy quickly complied, ripping one of the sleeves off using Ethan’s knife, as Ethan pulled open his backpack and pulled out some peroxide. Carl shoved the ripped sleeve into his mouth just as he put the peroxide onto his wound.

Tears sprung to his eyes and he couldn’t help but let out a whining noise, then put the tweezers into his flesh. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” muttered Ron as Carl kept his shoulder steady, wincing at the sound the flesh and metal made, the noises Ethan couldn’t help.

“You got it yet?” asked Carl, and Ethan was aware of how rugged his breathing was becoming and shook his head. “Y’know, I got shot once,” he said, probably trying to distract both of the other boys. “Right in my stomach. It was near the beginning of this shit. It’s where we met Maggie. Her dad saved my life,”

Ethan let out a low groan, turning his head away from the pain burning away in his shoulder. Gingerly, he pulled out the tweezers, the bullet coming out with it, thankfully intact. Almost immediately after, Carl had bundled up the remaining parts of the flannel and pressed it against the open wound. Ethan tilted his head back for a brief moment, the flannel having been spat out of his mouth. He turned to lean over so that he could unzip his bag and pull out a sterilised needle and threat.

“Now for the fun part,” he said, giving a dry laugh as he half-smiled at Carl. “Thread it for me?”

He did. “Do you want me to do it?” he asked, eyes on Ethan’s.

“You ever stitched up a gunshot wound before?”

“No,”

“Then no, cos I have,” Ethan retorted, taking the needle and thread, and without preamble, put the needle through his skin.

Ron ran out of the room, and the two heard him retching in the not too far distance. Ethan tried to keep it as short and quick as possible, stitching up as well as he could with the angle he had and the pain he was enduring. More than once, he felt faint, and more than once, Carl had to make sure he didn’t black out.

But soon, it was done, and Carl was helping him bandage the wound. “You’ve stitched yourself up before?” asked Carl, finishing up the bandage. Outside their room, the people had calmed down, no longer frantically shouting incoherently.

Ethan nodded, then lifted up the binder a little, revealing a thin scar on the left. “Hurt like a bitch,”

“What about that one?” he asked, gesturing to the scar that was just above Ethan’s belt. “You fix that up too?”

“No, uh – that’s from before. I had something called uterine fibroids, I think that’s what it was. Meant I had to get something removed because it was causing me intense pain when I was a kid. It really fucked stuff up, me and Mom, we couldn’t figure out why stuff was happening to me when I was so young, so she got me checked into a hospital and found I had to get surgery. It was so long ago, but the scar hasn’t really faded.”

He looked up at Carl and offered him a smile. “Not got the best luck, do I?”

“No,” he said, but was smiling too. “What’re we gonna do?” he asked, turning serious as he peered through the window.

Ethan followed his gaze, shifting further up on the table to look through it himself. “I’m gonna go and find Aaron and Eric, see where they are,”

“You’re not going out there alone,” argued Carl. “You’ve been shot,”

He shrugged his right shoulder in response, the left one aching from being shot into. “So? It won’t stop me. I know what I’m doing around herds. You don’t have to worry about me,”

“Maybe I wanna worry about you,”

Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He stood up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, and pulled out some clothes around his size and slipped them on, careful with his left shoulder. “That’s cute,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up minutely as Carl’s face flushed red. He moved closer to Carl, pulling his backpack on and leaned in close to Carl. “If you’re gonna worry about someone, you ought to worry about yourself,” he said, then kissed Carl’s cheek, though the action made him feel nervous and somewhat giddy.

“Wait,” said Carl, grabbing hold of Ethan’s hand. His face flushed so red. “Will-will you show me what it’s like to kiss boys?”

Ethan’s stomach did a weird little flip, as his own face reddened. “If we survive this shit.” He pulled open the door.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Something dramatic, I hope.” And with that, Ethan left the room, slipping away into another, climbing out of the window, Carl’s words ringing in his ears.

The noise and sound of the walkers in the community was overwhelming, the stench burning his nose and the sound hurting his ears. His steps on the roof were light and quiet, the walkers below ignorant to him above them. Though his heart felt like it was loud enough to bring down every walker on him within a hundred-mile radius, they remained ignorant to him.

He wasn’t particularly excited for what was going to happen next. He didn’t particularly know what he was going to do next. Die, maybe, if he was unlucky.

Ethan’s shoulder burned as he moved quickly and silently, jumping from one roof to another, the walkers below oblivious to him, the ones elsewhere thankfully not noticing his admittedly sloppy movements – he could blame the bullet wound he was nursing. Faintly, he wondered if Rick or anyone else had noticed that he’d vanished, and even wondered why Carl had allowed him to go outside – it was near enough suicide to try what he was doing.

But nothing had killed him yet.

Aaron and Eric’s house proved to be empty, though intact. None of the walkers had managed to get into their house. Ethan strayed from the windows, keeping in the shadows, unwilling to let the dead know he was alive in there. He slinked off into the kitchen and opened the cupboard to get one of the protein bars inside. He sat down in front of the cooker, legs splayed out in front of him, backpack beside him as he listened to the noises of the walkers outside, ambling around the house he quite liked.

“Omma, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, blinking back the sudden tears. “I tried so hard and now you’re gone and maybe Eli is too. I’m so sorry.” He pressed a hand to his face, trying to press his lips together to stop them shaking. Outside, the walkers paid him no mind. “We should’ve run away when you said so. But I was so scared Omma, so, so scared. And you knew you only had once chance after we ran. I wish you’d taken Eli with you, because I can’t do this. I don’t know how to get into the Saviors’ place, or where Eli could be, and _he’ll_ be there and I’m so scared.”

He felt himself collapse under the stress and cried.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan had sat on the floor of the kitchen for a while, long after his tears had subsided. He’d stared into space for a long while, lost in thought and mourn, breathing slow and heavy as the sun had begun to set, the sky turning black. But then he got up, wiping at the dried tears on his face, half wondering if his face was red and puffy; he needed to compose himself before he went back out there. Silently, he made his way upstairs, visiting Aaron and Eric’s room to find a polaroid of them. Smiling a little, he pocketed it, then looked around for anything of use.

He laughed a little as he reached over and grabbed the can, stuffing it into his backpack before he made his way out of the window. Then that was when he saw Maggie on top of one of the posts, trapped with dozens of walkers beneath her.

The decision had been instant.

Quicker than an ox, he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, until he was on the house closest to her. He stood up to his fullest height, waved to catch her attention. She noticed him, eyes wide and scared. He pulled out the can from his backpack and put one hand on his ear, putting the other ear to his arm that he’d raised with the can, and then pressed the button.

The air horn was a lot louder when it was right beside him, but he kept it going, seeing walkers come towards the house he was on.

He let go of the horn’s button. “Hey, assholes!” he shouted, throat hurting from the strain. “Free meal!” he looked over at Maggie. “Get away when they get far enough away.” he yelled, then set the horn off again, taking out his hearing aids as he did so and put them in his pocket, zipping it shut. He put some duct tape over the horn’s button and put it on the chimney beside him, the noise constant, drawing the walkers towards him.

The walkers started to come towards him and tried to claw at the walls in an attempt to get to him.

He barely heard the gunshot in the distance.

Ethan was sure he would die today – so he decided to make the most of it. He lit a flare he’d kept in his pack, waving it to catch the walkers attention all around, and if some of the walkers hadn’t noticed him before, they certainly did now.

Maggie climbed down, and he noticed that Glenn had been there with Enid, the three completely ignored by the walkers, all of whom were focused on Ethan.

It was only then did he truly acknowledge how many there were. But he pushed the thought aside, waving the flare until it died out, throwing it down into the walkers as he took out a gun, silenced, and aimed at some.

“DON’T!” He looked up and saw Daryl in the distance, on top of a van. He was more surprised that he’d heard him over the horn and lack of aids than anything else. “WAIT FER THE SIGNAL TO GET DOWN!”

He rolled his eyes but gave him a thumbs up and plonked himself down on the roof, watching the van zoom past. He stopped the horn, knowing full well all the walkers would be coming to him. In the distance, where Maggie had been, he could see Glenn and Enid with the woman, the girl looking at him in that way of hers. He offered a little salute and she shook her head in response, though he thought he could see the smile on her face.

And then he saw the signal. He was pretty sure everyone in and out of Alexandria saw the signal.

Daryl had set the damn lake on fire.

“Holy mother –” He took a running jump off the roof, clearing the jump over the walkers, rolling the land and clambered to his feet before he ran several feet away from the walkers, utterly shocked that it had worked so well. Ethan continued his run towards Glenn, Maggie and Enid, who’d watched his movements with wide eyes.

“Don’t ever do that again,” said Enid, grasping his arm once he was close enough. He offered her a short smile before the four turned against the walkers and begun their attack.

The snarls and the smell felt near enough overwhelming, but they fought against each and every one of the dead, nearing the others who had come out to join their attack against the dead. Ethan briefly caught sight of Eric and Aaron fighting alongside each other – they were safe. But he still stopped a few of the walkers from going near them when he could easily kill them.

Ethan wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, stabbing walker after walker, but many of Alexandria’s residents had helped take up arms against the walkers. It wasn’t something that Ethan had expected, but it gave him a little faith in the community. They had finally stepped up to doing this shit.

Eventually, there was one last walker left. It ambled towards him, stumbling over the fallen walkers. Before anyone else could act, he’d thrown a knife at it, hitting it in the forehead, a little to the left. It collapsed on top of the knife and he felt himself groan, walking forwards to kick the walker over and yank out the knife. He then could feel the burning in his left shoulder, long forgotten since he’d seen Maggie trapped atop the watch tower. But now the pain was returning in full flow.

“Ethan,” said Daryl, rushing forwards to him as he pressed a hand to the wound. “Y’alright?” he grunted. Ethan noticed how Rick and Michonne ran back towards the infirmary, scared expressions in place. Everyone around them were in varying states of shock. Someone in the background yelled about securing up the gate and the fallen wall – maybe Abraham; Ethan felt too dizzy.

“Jessie shot me earlier by accident. Forgot about it, hurts like a bitch.”

Aaron and Eric appeared on either side of Daryl. “You got shot?” asked Aaron as Eric checked the wound, though was silenced by Daryl.

“Fuck’re yeh thinkin’ gettin’ on the house and gettin’ all the walkers to yeh. Yeh tryin’a get yerself killed?” he yelled. “Fuckin’ gettin’ shot too. C’mon,” he snapped, pulling Ethan by the arm to the infirmary. The last Ethan saw was Eric and Aaron’s amused faces as Daryl dragged him away, both of them covered in blood splatter.

It took Ethan a moment to see the fresh blood on the back of Daryl’s jacket. “Were you stabbed?” he asked.

Daryl grunted an answer.  Ethan wasn’t impressed. “And you tell me off for getting shot when I didn’t even mean to. I think she was aiming at a walker I put down before she could.” he said, trying to smile a little. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“Y’ain’t fine,” he said, pushing open the door of the infirmary to see a woman stitching up Carl’s face. “Fuck,”

“Fuck me,” Ethan said a second after Daryl. “Is he alive?” he asked her, unable to take his eyes off Carl’s face. It took him a moment to realise Carl was _missing an eye_. “ _How_ is he alive?”

The woman ignored them both, working away at saving Carl’s life. Rosita appeared behind them, shocked to see the sight, but put the two on a separate bed away from Carl. She looked at them both, looking at the wounds, then went ahead in fixing Daryl’s, leaving some stuff for Ethan to use. “You know how to use all that?” she asked him once he’d cleaned up his hands and had taken off his bloody t-shirt, the binder beneath surprisingly clean, if a little sweaty.

He nodded, grabbing for the nearest item as he looked over at them. “Yeah, my mom taught me when I was younger. Had to stitch up a bullet wound before, so this won’t take long.” He got to work, aware of the looks Rosita and Daryl were giving him but ignored them for the sake of his mental state. God, he just needed a clean shower and sleep. He didn’t want to deal with the adults yet.

Ethan had sorted himself out as Rosita put the last stitch in Daryl and helped her to bandage the wound, being careful with his own wound. A few moments later, the woman finished up with Carl, who was ushered away into another room, the right side of his face bandaged up.

She looked utterly nervous at having to talk to so many people. Ethan offered her a short, quick smile. “Carl’s eye is gone. There’s no chance for it, I think the bullet tore it out, but luckily, he’s survived. A part of his skull did come away from the impact of the bullet, but I’ve stitched it up to the best of my abilities. He’s heavily medicated at the moment and won’t wake up for at least a few days. Until then, we won’t know how much trauma his brain went under. He could have amnesia, or maybe something worse. The only way to know will be when he wakes up and we see the extent of the damage.”

“What about his depth perception?” Ethan asked, frowning as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “He was right handed with a gun – losing his right eye will have fucked that up,”

A cry from the left notified Ethan that Rick had heard and was crying. “We’ll have to give him PT – uh, physical therapy – for that, help him regain balance, learn to deal with only having half his vision. For that, I recommend using a tennis ball to throw around to get accustomed to the new depth perception that will have no doubt been changed from being severely impaired.”

It didn’t feel real. It was so surreal. Ethan felt a hand on his back and looked to Daryl who gave him a nod. He nodded in return and felt the man pull him close to his side. The action was a little alien to the two of them, but it was still a comfort that they both needed. Ethan surmised that the two lacked the physical contact with others that was often needed. Daryl was still a bit of a stranger to him, having only known the man from when they’d been together out there, but he was the most comfort he would get with these people (aside from Aaron and Eric).

 

* * *

 

 

His shoulder ached, but he didn’t tell Enid that as they continued to hug, the embrace tight and more than welcome. His face remained hidden in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent as he calmed himself down, both aware of the weird looks they were getting from onlookers. But they’d missed each other deeply, even if had been a few hours. It had felt like a lifetime, locked in the mindset of death, unsure of whether the day would’ve been their last, whether Ethan had died inside where the walkers had flooded, whether Enid had died out there, where ever more walkers remained.

So much had happened in the day, it felt impossible for it to have been less than twenty-four hours for everything to go the way they had. But they did. And they stood there, clutching each other tightly, despite what others would think.

“Staying.” she whispered in his ear, and he nodded once.

Her grip on him tightened and it felt like his body was sure to go numb from it, but it didn’t matter because he held onto her just as tightly, not wanting to let go and find that it had all been a dream; that he was still stuck inside with walkers, or she to be stuck out there with even more walkers and dangers that could find her and hurt her. The decision was simple and mutual. They both knew it the second it crossed their minds.

“Staying.” he repeated, the word muffled by her skin.

They pulled away from each other and sat together on the windowsill with the others outside, waiting for more news on Carl. It seemed that everyone of importance – Abe, Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, Eric, Aaron, etc – were all out there with them as the sun begun to climb in the sky, waiting to hear if Carl had done anything in his first night of unconsciousness. He needed to get through this night first, and if he did, his chances of survival would improve.

The sun shone on Enid’s watch she held in her hand, and he twisted it in his direction to see the time – nine in the morning. It felt so weird to find that it was such a normal time, that they’d stayed awake throughout it all to find it was a time where otherwise, people would be getting up for work, be at jobs and be at school.

Time was weird. But it showed Carl had survived most, if not all, of the night he needed to get through.

Ethan looked up at Enid to find her staring at him with her piercing eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him, the silent question obvious. He turned to look at Aaron. “We’re gonna drag the walker bodies into piles, where do you want those to go?” he asked, then glanced around at the others for their input.

“We don’t want them near the ground where we’re gonna use for farming,” said Maggie from her spot beside Glenn. “Put them up in piles in the streets for us to burn. Any of our people you find are dead, take them to be buried.”

The two nodded and walked away, some others following suit.

Their work was more or less silent, stabbing the walkers just to make sure, and piling them up in sections. Others would come and help them, but for the most part, Ethan and Enid worked together. They’d clock corpses and go to it together without much talk or glances between them and get shit done. They had their own way of working, and it was done well when they were together.

“Do you think he’s gonna live?” Enid asked after a while. He saw her watch – an hour and a half had passed.

He looked up at her expectant gaze. “He’s stubborn like that. He could get bit and throw it off out of pure rage and stubbornness.” It made her laugh.

“What’s the last thing you said to him?” she said, mouth pressed in a thin line. “I said something about not wanting to say goodbye. What did you say?”

“’If we survive this shit’,” he recited, feeling his face turn beet red, remembering the context of the words, and how bright Carl’s eyes had been, the shy hope that had been there as he’d stared at Ethan. Or it might’ve been something about being dramatic, but what he recited to her was the prominent thing he’d said to Carl. It was the more important thing he’d said – it felt important anyway, far more than something about being _dramatic_.

Enid seemed to be able to read his thoughts with ease, which didn’t surprise him in the least. She had an awfully good knack for that kind of thing – reading his mind and knowing the words before they’d come out.

“You’ve got a crush on him.” she said, words a statement.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I am a hormonal teenager and these things are bound to happen,” he said, eliciting a laugh from her. “I think I’m hormonal anyway,” he added as an afterthought, looking over at her as they walked towards another body, Enid stepping down to stab the walker in the head. They knelt down together, picking it up by its limbs and hefted it towards the closest pile of bodies for burning.

“You don’t have to be hormonal,” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “If you’re not, that’s OK,” she told him, leaning back slightly so her back would pop. “People have got this covered. We gonna go and get a shower and some sleep?” she asked, sheathing her machete.

“Might as well,” he said, then followed her back to Aaron and Eric’s house.

Enid got in the shower first, and Ethan had stayed downstairs, peeling off his shoes, socks, trousers and t-shirt, the blood all crusty from having dried under the warmth of the air and sun. He didn’t particularly think that Aaron and Eric would want those clothes in their house, so left them in a binbag near the back door. All he was left in were his boxers and binder. His chest felt weird, and he knew it was because he’d worn the binder for so long.

His hair felt gross, all dried up like cardboard and he wished Enid would be quick to get out. Ethan knew that he stunk and couldn’t wait to get all the dried-up gunk from his skin.

“You’re alright?” asked Eric’s voice. He turned around and saw the man and Aaron standing there looking at him with weirdly worried expressions on their faces. It took him a moment to realise that the two could see his body and the marks on his skin that couldn’t pass as birthmarks. Ethan tried not to think about that.

He nodded, even though it didn’t feel it. “H-h-how’s Carl?” he asked, feeling weird. It felt like the shock of everything had finally caught up with him and he felt close to tears.

Aaron made a face. “He’s still out of it. Squeezed Rick’s hand, so he’s a bit responsive, which none of us were expecting. He’ll live,”

“Right,”

“Where’s your clothes?”

Instead of verbally answering, Ethan pointed towards the binbag. As Aaron went to inspect it, Enid had returned. He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, nor hear her footsteps on the stairs. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing some of Ethan’s clothes, her dirty ones in her hands. Aaron took them from her, telling her he’d wash them along with all their dirty clothes. “I’ll see you,” she said, and he nodded before she left, sharing one of their looks.

“Go shower,” said Eric, voice calm and reassuring. He briefly put his hand on Ethan’s arm as he passed him, and it took Ethan all he could not to go running. He kept his pace as he went into his room and grabbed some clothes before he went into the bathroom, bolting it shut.

He moved towards the mirror over the sink and examined the patch job on his shoulder. He’d barely been aware of the pain, but now that everything seemed to have calmed down, now that the danger wasn’t imminent, he felt it. He wished he’d grabbed some painkillers for the pain but knew that there were other people who would need them more. From the looks of things, he’d have one hell of a scar. It wasn’t the first, but it was part of many.

The strap of the binder needed to be sewn together again, and he’d do that later, maybe after getting some rest.

Getting out of the binder had proven to be difficult, far more than he’d been anticipating. Tears pricked behind his eyes at the concept of having to rip the binder in order to get out of it. He couldn’t – he didn’t have a spare one to use and the idea of not knowing when he’d have another terrified him. Feeling sick, Ethan reached into the drawer and pulled out the scissors.

He snipped at the remains of the left strap, letting it fall back. He put down the scissors and wiped at his eyes. With a little bit of difficulty, he pulled his right arm out of the hole there, then widened the gap on the left side and forced his arm through, the action causing a searing pain in his gunshot wound. A choking noise escaped him, and he felt light-headed and sick. Vaguely, he was aware that he was sweating immensely. But now his arm was through.

“Fuck my life,” he muttered, then grabbed the bottom of the damned thing and pulled it upwards. It got halfway and got stuck. “ _Fuck_.” He wiggled his body, attempting to pull it off, arm going at a weird angle, but it slipped off in a sudden movement and he could feel the warm air on his bare chest. He threw the stupid item aside and shed his boxers and turned the water on, letting the coldness seep into his skin once he’d stepped in, his hearing aids left on the sink.

The intense coldness of it helped ground him, and was a stark contrast to the hot, stinging tears. He wasn’t all too sure as to _why_ he was crying, but he couldn’t help it. Warmth soon crept into the water and he forced himself to cleanse his body and be wary of his aching shoulder. His breathing felt a little laboured, but he continued to get rid of the grime and dirt, even though he could feel sweat coming up on his skin – the heat from the Virginia sun harsh in a way he hadn’t gotten accustomed to.

Ethan wasn’t sure if Aaron and Eric could hear him crying, but he didn’t give a shit – everything was too much.


	7. Pharmacy Fights

The doctor – Denise - informed them that Carl had woken after what must’ve been at least two weeks of being in a coma. Ethan had been surprised Carl’s body hadn’t shut down and died from the shock, but the boy was near enough a stranger to him, but his stubbornness was yet to be levelled. He wasn’t sure what Carl was to him; they’d both trusted each other when those people attacked, and had hung around together, but Ethan didn’t know what they were. His mind went back to the kiss, that little kiss on Carl’s cheek that had them both nervous and shy, like little kids again. Maybe Enid was right, and he did have a bit of a crush on the guy.

Things had changed – Aaron and Eric were closer to Ethan than what he’d ever expected from them, or anyone, and it felt weird. But in a good way. He couldn’t remember when he last had someone like how they were to him. Daryl was also somehow closer to him, even though he spent most of his time either outside or with the people from his group. Whenever Daryl would return, he’d come back with a few batteries in hand for Ethan’s aids, which Ethan found nice of Daryl – and showed that the man did have a heart, even if some of the residents of Alexandria thought otherwise.

Ethan spent most of his time around Enid.

The two often found themselves sitting near the lake where the walkers had walked into, either reading comic books or simply sitting there. Sometimes they’d go outside the walls, but since Ethan’s shoulder wound had yet to properly heal, they didn’t do that all that much; the danger wasn’t worth it. So they often found themselves somewhere inside the walls, reading.

Something that surprised Ethan was how Glenn and Maggie had tried to befriend him. He’d be civil about everything, if a little awkward. He supposed it was because he’d done his bit to save Maggie from falling off the watch stand, and the two wanted to try and repay him in some way.

“How’s your shoulder?” asked Glenn.

He and Ethan were sat together on a bench. Ethan hadn’t dared wear his binder ever since his struggle in the bathroom. He had trouble getting the _other things_ on his chest and he knew getting a binder on required more movement than the stuff he was currently wearing. At least what he wore now still gave a flat chest impression, if not to the standard Ethan was used to.

“OK,” he replied, eyes going over the same sentence he’d already read five times. He shut the book and looked over at Glenn. “Hurts like hell,” he added, shrugging his good shoulder.

“Wanna go and get some painkillers? I promise I’ll do the talking for you,” he said, smiling at Ethan. He had to admit, that did sound good. Ethan agreed and the two made their way to where the makeshift doctor’s place was. Could it be called a hospital? Pharmacy? Ethan didn’t know, so didn’t label it, so just thought of it as Denise’s place.

Glenn was giving him that side eye he gave him when he didn’t know how to talk about something. “What?” asked Ethan, wanting to get it over with.

“Why aren’t you going out looking for your brother?”

Ow. “Because my shoulder is currently fucked and that’ll cause some disadvantages out there and if I have to use both my arms, I’ll be in too much pain and probably get myself killed,” he said. “I dunno how long it’ll take for the wound to heal, but she did hit pretty deep and I do wanna let the muscles in that area heal before I go do something stupid out there with a billion and one things out to kill me,”

“Meh, I think it’s at about six billion and one, give or take a few million,” said Glenn, but Ethan caught the smile on the man’s face and shook his head a little.

Still, that was daunting to think about. “My god, I’m gonna have an existential crisis and it’s not even midday,” he muttered, though smiled a little to reassure Glenn that he was actually OK, aside from the burning sensation in his shoulder of course. Yeah, he really needed some painkillers, and have Denise check it to make sure it was healing properly. He wanted those stitches out soon.

Glenn led the way and opened the door for Ethan, and the two found Denise sat at the desk, poring over a large medical book. She didn’t notice them for a few moments until she looked up. The two waved at her as her face flushed red a little.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked, standing up. “Hurting?”

He nodded, rubbing his hand over it absently. “Just a little,” he said, wincing a little. “That might be a white lie, it really hurts,”

Denise offered him a smile, gesturing him to the desk, which he sat on. She pulled the neck away and pulled the bandaging away from it a little. He saw her purse her lips. “What?” he asked.

“Well, it looks like they need to be taken out, or getting them out later could cause more pain from having to cut the skin open,”

Ethan grimaced. “Yeah, get ‘em out,”

As she rummaged around for the right equipment, Glenn helped Ethan take off his t-shirt, mainly helping him get his arm through the hole. He didn’t say anything when Ethan kept it pressed to his chest, hiding his chest as best he could. Denise returned with some scissors, tweezers and some other stuff that Ethan didn’t know the names of.

“How’s Carl?” Glenn asked as he watched Denise get to work on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan had decidedly not wanted to look at the stitches being taken out, putting them in himself had put him off wanting to see them get taken out. He winced when she pulled out one of them, felt the movement beneath his skin like some sort of snake. He cleared his throat and composed himself.

“Doing well. He’s been waking up far more than I anticipated and aside from his change in depth perception, the only thing holding him back is his amnesia,”

Ethan frowned, feeling a little sympathetic for the poor guy. “Will he get his memories back?” he asked curiously as another stitch came out. Only a few more to go.

Denise made a noise in the back of her throat. “Depends. We can try and trigger the memories back to the surface, but it’ll have to be something that he’ll have to figure out. The brain is a delicate and complex thing. He could get all his memories back or none at all. Quite frankly, I’m surprised he’s gotten the few memories he has back so quickly,”

Although Ethan hadn’t been there when it happened, Carl had remembered when he’d had to put his mother down. According to Eric, Carl had cried to his father about it all, sounding hysteric and almost like a five-year-old.  But after that, some of his memories had started to trickle back in – how he’d come to trust Michonne for one, since when she had been there when he woke, he’d overreacted and tried to put a gun on her before Denise and Rick had to calm him and sedate him a little. Ethan had been walking towards his house with Enid when Michonne had come walking up the street, teary-eyed and far more emotional than Ethan thought he’d see her as, used to the image of the stoic, impenetrable Michonne he’d seen before.

It had been a huge wakeup call to see her like that, and just how deeply affected Carl had been by his wound. Not to mention how it affected those around him. Even Ethan and Enid had been acting weird since it’d happened.

“There we go,” said Denise, pulling Ethan out of his thoughts. “I’ll just go and get some bandages to re-wrap it. Be careful that you don’t overwork your arm, it’ll take a few more weeks to heal that wound of yours. Don’t go out past the walls unless you’re with someone,” she told him sternly before she walked into one of the store rooms for the supplies.

And then, because it was just Ethan’s luck, he was knocked to the floor.

His head collided with the marble floor harshly, and then sound was all gone. He opened his eyes from having shut them from the impact, and saw Carl was straddling him, fist raised. “You fucking _kidding me_?” yelled Ethan – or he thought he yelled, since the words sounded distorted and quiet – and then thumped Carl in the gut hard. As Carl curled over in pain, Ethan pushed him off him, scrabbling on the floor for his hearing aids. Once he had them, he hurried to his feet, chest heaving.

Sound returned to him, and the first thing he heard was his panicked breathing. The second was all the shouting. “What the hell?” he demanded, pressing a hand to the back of his head as he pulled himself up. There wasn’t anything sticky or weirdly warm collecting on his palm, so wasn’t bleeding. The last thing he needed was a cracked skull. “Asshole.”

Glenn was holding Carl back, and Denise was in a corner, eyes wide, the items she’d brought back with her on the floor.

“He attacked me in the woods!” shouted Carl, pointing a finger at Ethan accusingly.

Ethan frowned, the anger ever present and all he wanted to do was scream and shout at Carl. But he shook his head, forcing himself to calm down, because Carl looked terrified and confused and forcibly reminded Ethan that he was just an amnesiac with only one eye left. “Dude you attacked me first. I followed you. You put the knife to my throat first, all I did was defend myself,” he said.

“Liar,” Carl said, trying to get out of Glenn’s grip, but the man was stronger than him. “You – you tried to attack me. Threatened Judy’s life,” he said, but the doubt was settling in Carl’s face now, Ethan could see it. There was a beat of silence, two, three, before Carl’s face seemed to just crumble with guilt as the memory finally came back to him.

“We alright in here?” said Abraham, and Ethan saw him and Rosita standing in the doorway. Ethan hadn’t heard them enter. He fiddled with his aids a little.

Glenn looked at Carl who nodded and the man let go of him. Ethan grabbed his t-shirt, feeling far too self-conscious, the multiple pairs of eyes on him making him feel about two inches tall and objectified. He wished he’d never gone for those goddamn painkillers, which he still didn’t have.

To his relief, Rosita seemed to notice his discomfort. “Hey, let me finish off fixing your wound. Looks like you hit your head too,” she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm and led him into one of the rooms used for patients. She shut the door behind them just as Ethan’s body started to shake. “Hey,” she said softly, coming to stand in front of him. “You’re gonna be OK,” she said, but all Ethan could do was press the clothing to his chest, wishing he could’ve been born right instead of having those _things_.

“If you’re worried Abraham will get mad at you or hate you for being who you are and being out, you’ve got nothing to be scared about. The only thing that pisses him off right now is Eugene for lying to us about DC. I don’t think he particularly cares, though he can be a bit ignorant.”

Ethan snorted. Abraham, on more than one occasion, had teased Ethan about his feminine appearance. So naturally, Ethan returned the teasing about Abraham’s hair colour and handlebar moustache. (He might have even made a crude joke about Abraham wanting people to pull on his handlebar.)

“We good now?” asked Rosita, her hand on his arm all comforting and warm. Ethan nodded, taking a deep breath to help ease the anxiousness from his systems.

She wrapped up his shoulder securely, then helped him put the t-shirt on, easing his arm into the right hole. “Thanks,” he said, offering her a smile as he rubbed at the back of his head, which was throbbing with pain. Rosita simply smiled and handed him some painkillers and some water to take them down with.

“What’re we gonna do about your hearing?” she asked. “I mean, people who need glasses, their eyesight tends to degrade. Will your hearing also do the same?”

Ethan didn’t really want to think about that. “Yeah, I suppose so. For now, I guess I can just readjust the levels on my aids. If I’m lucky, I might come across some other aids from someone else that’ll help if my hearing degrades more.” His hearing degrading was inevitable. It was something that happened to everyone, but he supposed he was more at risk if he lost total hearing.

But he’d get by. If he managed this far into the apocalypse with terrible hearing, he supposed he could last a little longer. She nodded her head, then let him leave as she cleaned away all the medical stuff.

To his surprise, Glenn was still waiting for him. “You good?” he asked. Ethan huffed a laugh but nodded his head. Carl was still there but had his back to the two as Denise was checking over his missing eye. As curious as Ethan was to see the scarring on the other boy’s face, he knew he’d hate it if other people were there whilst it was out in the open.

“Head hurts like a motherfucker, but Rosita gave me drugs, so I should be good enough once they start kicking in.” he said, shrugging his good shoulder. “Are we off?” he asked. Glenn nodded and led the two of them out of Denise’s place. Ethan didn’t look behind him at Carl, not wanting to see the boy.

Glenn was leading him back to his place, where no doubt some of the others would be. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Carol. She’d changed dramatically, from her façade to someone stone cold, back to her façade, but saw that trying to be what she wasn’t was starting to take a toll on her. He had appreciated her help when those people had come to attack Alexandria but was wary of her more than some of the other people in the community. Her and Morgan were the people Ethan distrusted the most, and he supposed it was because there was something hidden about them, that they were actively trying to hide.

“Are you going on a run soon?” asked Ethan, looking over at the man as a dog ran past them, quickly followed by a haggard man with a leash. They watched the dog slow down, then run between the man’s legs and back up the road it had just ran down. Ethan thought back to his own dog, Wilfred the St. Bernard. Wilfred had been about three years old when the apocalypse hit, and he’d ran away before they got to the Sanctuary.

“Maybe. We are running a little low on some supplies. I think we’ll have to go on one soon,” Glenn said. “Do you want anything? More batteries?”

Ethan shrugged and shook his head. “Daryl got me some to last me a while, but if you do see some, feel free to grab them for me,” he said, eliciting a chuckle from Glenn.

 

* * *

 

 

Rick was having a meeting and Ethan had been invited to be audience to it, as if Ethan was going to be able to understand all the adult talk and numerous voices speaking over one another.

Right now, a few people were arguing, making it very hard for Ethan to understand what was going on. The room was already warm enough despite the winter that they were going through. Autumn had long since past with its still warm heat, and now winter was there, though Ethan doubted there would be much snow.

To cope with the overlays of sound, he was signing to himself the words he could distinguish. Mostly he was paying attention to Rick, Maggie, Michonne and Glenn, since he was closest to them and didn’t speak over each other loudly. There were a few other people, who were louder and all the more annoying, who Ethan ignored.

Signing was easy for him and calming. Somehow it grounded him and helped him feel in control over situations. Although he couldn’t hear some of the words they were saying, he caught on. Besides, signing the words helped him remember some of the important things they were saying. What they were saying was kinda boring, really. It was mostly talk of needing to grow food in farmland once the weather perked up a little, and since they were nearing the end of winter, after nearly two months since Carl getting shot in the face, they were making the plans now, instead of earlier on.

Not for the first time did Ethan question why he was with these people.

He’d taken out his BTEs after a while, soon giving up on signing and instead just felt the vibrations from everyone talking. It was all messy and jumbled, but he could soon learn the differences in them. Rick and Daryl had the deeper vibrations that went to his bones, whereas Michonne, Maggie and Glenn’s felt lighter on his skin and engulfed him.

At least his shoulder was getting better, near enough having been healed up, if still a little achy. That had been a great improvement to what he’d been dealing with a month prior.

Not too long after, the meeting had been adjourned and people began to take their leave. Ethan cracked his fingers, having not signed in a while. He hadn’t really needed to, because there’d been no-one else who would understand him.

“Hey, what was that yeh were doin’?” asked Daryl, coming to stand beside him as others walked around them and Ethan put the aids back on.

‘What, this?’ he signed, just to be a little cocky before he verbalised his question. Daryl nodded. “American Sign Language. We had to learn when we found out I’m hard of hearing. My mom, she taught me. Learned ASL and then helped me and Eli learn it,”

Daryl seemed to notice how he left out his father. “Anyway, when people talk too much, the sounds overlay in my BTEs and I can’t hear shit, since it’s all, like, jumbled and shit. When I try and concentrate on what someone’s saying, I can sort of figure it out, and signing along helps me understand.”

He looked over at Daryl, a little frown on his face. “Why, do you wanna learn?” he asked curiously.

Daryl nodded. “S’just in case yeh don’ have yer aids an’ we need to talk,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a little. “Could yeh teach people how to do it?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure. Takes a bit of practice, but it’s not that hard once you get your head around it. I hate the alphabet though, since it’s all on one hand and when I was learning British sign, theirs is using both hands and feels better to use than just on one hand. Though I guess ASL is more practical if you’ve only got one hand.” He was aware of the amused look Daryl had on his face but chose not to comment on it.

Soon enough, they left the house they were in and Daryl led him back to Aaron and Eric’s place, only to get stopped by Carl Grimes himself.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, looking at Ethan.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, then looked at Daryl. “Catch you later, bitch,”

He ducked the swing at his head, aware that there was no true heat behind it. “Spaghetti tonight,” he reminded Ethan who nodded, and finger gunned him as he continued his trek towards Aaron and Eric’s place.

Ethan looked at Carl, who he saw was looking a little nervous and very uncomfortable. “Do you wanna go on a walk?” he suggested. Carl nodded, grateful, and Ethan led the way to the pond, where the gazebo was. “So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, sitting on the bench in the gazebo. Ethan wasn’t sure that the thing was really a gazebo, but if it had another name, he didn’t know it.

Carl sat beside him, his only visible eyebrow furrowed, and his gaze turned downward as he tried to find the words. “I wanted to say sorry for attacking you those weeks ago. I don’t think I got the chance to say sorry and I haven’t really seen you around,” he said. “And Denise has me doing PT – physical therapy, and I was wondering if you could help? So far, she has me throwing a tennis ball, but I wanna get used to using my gun in my left hand,”

Ethan nodded. “It’s chill. Not gonna be the last time I’ll get attacked. Just try not to hit my head so hard next time, yeah? I’ve already got shitty hearing, I don’t want anything else to get fucked with my head,” he said a little jokingly, smiling minutely. “I’ll help you with PT,” he added, knocking his shoulder into Carl’s.

“You’ve changed,” the boy said after a brief pause. “I can remember when I first met you and the day those people attacked. You were different to what you are now. You weren’t as OK,”

He snorted. “Thanks,”

“No, I mean … you look a little happier now, you smile more than those few days and it’s nice. I think I prefer you now to before, because before you were a sort of dick,”

Ethan couldn’t resist, he really couldn’t.

“I’m making up for the fact I don’t have one.”

Carl stared at him in shock, which set Ethan off into laughter. He’d come to terms with not having one, so he might as well be as funny as he could be about the whole thing. A second or two after, Carl joined in on his laughter, the shock and surprise laced in his laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

The two looked up and saw Rick looking at them, that small smile on his face that he had whenever he saw his son happy. Ethan felt his chest ache. He felt his smile falter a little, but he tried to hide it.

“Dick jokes,” he said. “They’re all the rage for teenage boys,” he added, amused at the surprised look on Rick’s face.

The man shook his head a little. “Carl, will you come back to the house soon? Carol made dinner,” he said, then looked at Ethan. “Are you coming?”

“I wish. Aaron and Eric are doing spaghetti and Daryl will drag me back if I don’t go,”

Rick nodded his head, knowing that his friend would indeed come and drag Ethan back to their house if he wasn’t there in time for dinner. It was a little strange, but still welcoming, to see Daryl act like that. If either Rick or Ethan were bold enough to say it, they’d say he was being _parental_. However, neither of them wanted Daryl to glare them into the ground, or embarrass or make him uncomfortable about it, so didn’t mention it.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two teenage boys to your jokes,” he said, smiling as he shook his head, no doubt reminiscing from when he was a teenage boy giggling away at dick jokes and the like.

Ethan was curious as to what kinds of dick jokes Rick knew, but the thought of asking was both uncomfortable and embarrassing. Once Rick was gone, Carl made a weird noise in the back of his throat. Ethan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“I can’t believe you told him we were laughing at a dick joke,”

“What else am I going to say? We were laughing at your hairstyle choice?”

It looked like Ethan stepped over a line there, with how quickly Carl seemed to close in around himself. “Shit man, sorry,” he said, not really sure what else to say.

Carl wiped at his eye, sniffling a little, staring straight ahead so that he didn’t have to look at Ethan. “My mom, she always cut my hair for me. I hated it because she gave me the worst cuts and all my friends got theirs done at a barber’s. But then she died, and it feels like no-one else should really cut my hair because it was always her that did it,”

“Sorry, man,” said Ethan, the guilt sudden and claustrophobic. “My mom used to do the same, but it was cos we were poor, and my dad didn’t want to waste the money because we had her. He was a sexist prick like that, Mom couldn’t cut hair worth for shit It was always jagged and uneven. She always cut it really short too for me, and back then I didn’t get why,” and oh god he was really going there, wasn’t he? “because all the other girls had long hair and I didn’t fit in because I had weird hair that was always too short and made me look like a boy and I always got teased because of it. And I think she knew what she was doing because she knew me better than I knew myself.”

There, he’d said that little bit about his past before he was really _Ethan_. “And I’m telling you this to show you that I can sympathise with you a little, but as you can see out of the two of us, I’ve got the shorter hair, and that’s because I think she’d know I’d wanna be me and make my own choices, like how your mom knew you’d make your choices.”

“All this because of a comment on my lack of a haircut,” said Carl, a sort of sad amusement coming off him.

“Shut up, I’m trying to be nice,” he said, nudging his shoulder into Carl’s. “Want me to walk you back to your house? I’ll kill anyone who gives you weird looks about your pretty face,”

Carl winced a little. “Thanks, but you don’t have to,”

“Still want to,” he said, shrugging his shoulders before he stood up, turned and held out his hand to Carl. “Come along, pretty boy.”

Carl took the outstretched hand and the two walked together, hands still together. “You’ve said that three times now,” he said after a moment of silence. “Called me pretty,”

“Hmm, see I recall calling you pretty boy twice. Only once have I said you have a pretty face,” he said, then his eyebrows came a little closer together as he looked over at Carl, who was just that little bit taller than Ethan at the moment. “Are you OK with that?”

“Yeah. Just, no-one has ever called me that before, and especially not now I’m missing an eye.” The latter part of the sentence was spoken with a heavy tone, as if Carl was still in shock about missing his eye. Ethan wouldn’t blame him if he still was. “You’re also the first to not say sorry about it, too. You’ve not even mentioned it,”

Ethan squeezed Carl’s hand before he let go of it. “Why should I mention it? It’d be like you talking about my chest or something like that. Neither of us are comfortable with these body disfigurements, but we both have to live with them. I’m not mentioning it because if I were you, the last thing I’d want is people reminding me about it,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over his aids. “Look, I walked you home.”

Next to him, Carl shook with either laughter or tears. “I remember what must be the last thing we talked about. Would you still show me what that’s like?”

It felt like Ethan’s heart was trying to rip itself out of his chest. Of course Carl remembered. “If you want. I mean, we _did_ survive that shit,” he said, feeling his stomach doing flips below his hammering heart. “Not tonight though. I think your dad might come give me the shovel talk if we did,”

“My dad loves you. After what you did with saving Maggie from the tower, I think he thinks you’re a saint,”

“I’m really just a demon, so that’s just ironic,”

Carl rolled his eye and punched Ethan’s shoulder with no real force to it. “See you tomorrow for PT?”

He nodded, then let Carl go to his house as he set off back to the one that he lived in.

Boys were confusing.

 

* * *

 

 

When he finally got to the house, Aaron was waiting for him by the swing on the porch. “You’re missing some serious spaghetti. I think Daryl is trying to eat us out of house and home,”

“Me too,” Ethan replied, smiling up at Aaron. Aaron huffed a laugh but led Ethan into the house and to the dining table.

The four of them eating together had become a sort of regular occurrence, though Ethan wasn’t sure as to when that had started to happen. It just did.

Feeling relatively safe, he pulled the BTEs away and turned them off, letting the air rush over his ears. He could deal with being a little deaf in the house, where he felt the safest, ignoring the mantra of _notsafenotsafenotsafe_ that was going on in his head.

For a while, Ethan was left to his own devices, which meant eating. He took his time as he ate, savouring every mouthful, because even though it wasn’t something he’d enjoyed before the apocalypse, it was something that left him feeling extremely good after, now. Soon enough, though, he’d looked up and caught Daryl’s gaze, and saw the man was a little annoyed.

To his left, he could see Aaron and Eric talking animatedly, but without his aids he didn’t have a clue what they were saying. Sure he could still hear them, but it was extremely muffled to the point where he might as well try and use his other senses. He slipped his hearing aids back on and turned them on, the sound rushing to greet his ears.

“– all I’m saying is I don’t understand how we get the name Bobby from _Robert_. It’s strange. Even Bill from William is peculiar,” said Aaron, and now Ethan understood why Daryl had looked so … exasperated. He hoped they hadn’t been going on about this for a while.

“No worse than getting Dick from Richard,” said Eric, shaking his head slightly. “Honestly, how _do_ you get Dick from Richard?”

“You ask nicely.”

Ethan didn’t mean to say that out loud. Nor did he mean for it to cause a silence so deafening on their table. He shut his eyes momentarily, feeling suddenly religious as he prayed for something to take him either up to the heavens or down into hell for that comment.

And then there was laughter and he opened his eyes to look up at the others, all of whom were in varying stages of amusement.  Daryl was grinning a little, though with a little shake of his head. Eric looked half traumatised and half hysterical whereas Aaron was openly laughing.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Aaron asked, patting Ethan on the back once he’d sobered up a little.

All Ethan could do was offer a shrug and stuff his face with spaghetti as his cheeks reddened. Two dick jokes in one day, he should stop before they got out of hand. He had a sneaking suspicion that if Enid ever heard that he made those kinds of jokes, he’d find a joke book hidden within his possessions, as well as never hear the endless jokes she somehow knew.


	8. Throwing Flames

PT sessions with Carl were difficult. All they would do was throw the ball at each other, but with Carl readjusting his depth perception, it meant that Ethan was often standing up and getting back down with how often he had to go for the ball. But it didn’t matter, because it was helping his friend. They’d meet up everyday at the same time to begin their training sessions. Neither of them mentioned anything about the whole kissing boys thing that Carl had mentioned since he told him that he remembered. It made Ethan feel a little bit more nervous around Carl, though he managed to ignore it for the most part.

Today, however, Ethan needed to go on the run Glenn was going on. Well, he hadn’t told him as such yet, but he was ready to go.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Glenn when he got closer.

“Need some stuff for my ears,” he said. He pulled out the small list and held it out to Glenn.

“A dehumidifier and some tubing?” the man asked, frowning as he looked over at Ethan. “What’s wrong with your BTEs?”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “The tubing gets worn down over time and I need to fix it – I’ve seen my doc do it before, so I know what I’m doing. The dehumidifier keeps moisture to a minimum on my aids and might even make them last longer,”

Glenn looked at the others, the man named Heath and Tara. They’d been eavesdropping from the guilty look on Tara’s face and Heath’s confused sort of look. “Alright. You know how to work in a group out there?” asked Glenn, giving Ethan the list back. He nodded; he’d been on runs before with other groups and knew these guys he was going to be going with now were more competent than any of the others he’d gone on runs with.

“Let’s go,” said Heath, climbing into the car. The others followed suit and soon enough, they were leaving Alexandria. “So, you’re deaf?” Ethan looked over at Heath.

“So you’re blind?”

Heath smiled a little, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Yeah. How did you survive out there? Tara told me that you’d been on your own before you joined Alexandria,”

“I dunno. I’m supposed to be looking for my brother, but I guess that’s been put on hold,” he said. “I used to be with some other groups, but they never worked out.”

The man beside him nodded and the conversations turned into silence. Though because Tara was energetic in a way that was foreign to Ethan, she kept any and all conversations flowing, often talking to no-one in particular. He supposed Tara was good like that, not letting the silence consume the others around her. Or maybe it was because she had a girlfriend to go back to that made her so happy.

They eventually got to where Glenn had been driving – it looked like a small hospital of sorts, and Ethan hoped that it would have the dehumidifier and tubes that he’d need for his BTEs. Out of habit, he pressed his fingers to them, before he deemed the sound levels were good enough for him. Ethan followed the others out of the car and towards the building, hand gripping his knife tightly.

“Ethan, you stick with Tara. Me and Heath will go around, make sure that the perimeter is safe and if there’s any other ways in,” said Glenn. The two nodded and watched them walk off.

Being back outside the walls felt different to how it had been before, and Ethan supposed that it was because he was with other people this time, people who he knew he could trust. He certainly trusted Glenn, especially after seeing how nice of a guy he was. Which was why he was worried about Glenn the most out of Rick’s group. Glenn didn’t have that look about him, didn’t look like he’d ever killed anyone before. The others had it, Rick _certainly_ did, which was why the man was kinda terrifying to be around. Ethan didn’t want to know what killing a person would do to Glenn.

But right now, out there, where he could very well get killed within a second, he had to keep aware, to not let his guard down. He had to use all his senses to make up for the one he was the weakest in. Ethan’s eyes roamed the treeline, down the road, both ways, and found that they were relatively alone. He could take a guess that that wouldn’t last long. It never really lasted long.

Not too long later, Heath and Glenn appeared, nodding their heads. Ethan turned around, peered inside the window before he knocked on it loudly whilst Heath and Glenn went towards the door. Walkers came towards them, trying to get Ethan and Tara through the glass. They kept the walkers occupied as Glenn and Heath pulled the door open and snuck in, killing the walkers that had come to the sound.

“Clear,” said Heath, popping his head back out so that he could tell the other two to get in the hospital with them.

When Ethan stepped in, he felt himself go tense. The hairs on his arms and neck stood up as he gripped his weapon tighter, eyes looking around the area as he strained his poor ears to see if he could detect anything. They followed Glenn deeper into the hospital, flicking on their torches as the peered into rooms, trying to find any supplies that they might need.

“Alright, Heath, Tara, you two take the west side, Ethan and I will take the east,” said Glenn, voice barely above a whisper. It was a little difficult for Ethan to hear him. “We meet back here in fifteen minutes with everything we got from both sides and move on to the next part.”

Each of them nodded before they went off into their designated parts. Ethan’s heart was doing odd beats, and he could only guess that their luck was sure to run out. Everything suddenly felt off, which was never a good thing for Ethan. His palms got a bit sweatier and he had to grip his weapons tighter.

Glenn kept a step or two behind him as they opened the doors in the dark corridor, killing any of the walkers inside the rooms. They both looked through the drawers, trying to find what they needed on their lists. Ethan’s priority was the tubing he needed for his BTEs, so even if he didn’t get the dehumidifier, at least he’d have something for his worn-down aids. He and Glenn worked together quite well, considering it was their first run together.

“In here,” said Glenn quietly from the left, his voice only just getting picked up on Ethan’s aids. The boy looked over at the man and followed him through a door and into a large room with tables and islands all strewn with medical equipment and boxes with long words on them that Ethan wouldn’t bother to try and pronounce. Ethan knew what he was looking for. The two set to work grabbing everything that they deemed useable for Denise and anyone dumb enough to get themselves hurt.

Ethan climbed onto a counter and pulled open the doors to the shelves and held his torch up, trying to see further back into the cabinet, shifting boxes aside for sight, because these looked similar, and his chest was hurting from the anticipation –

“ _Yes,_ ” he whispered, grabbing the boxes of tubing and shoving them into his cargo trousers before he grabbed the last two dehumidifiers, turning to look at Glenn with a grin on his face. “I found some!”

Glenn returned the smile. “Nice one,”

He turned back to the cabinet and looked at the sight stuff. Although he didn’t understand their functions all that much (because he might be cursed with bad hearing, but he had good eyes), and decided they might be of some use to Carl, or anyone else whose sight could have deteriorated. He shoved them into his bag before he shut the cabinet doors and jumped down to the floor, light on his feet. On the counter, he saw a few lighters, and decided they might be useful and put them in his pockets too before he made his way over to Glenn.

And then, because it was _just his luck_ , he heard voices. From the looks of it, Glenn had also heard them and had come to the same conclusion – the strangers weren’t friendly.

Glenn grabbed Ethan’s arm and pulled him forwards towards the large coat locker-thing. Ethan saw some hairspray – why was there hairspray there? – and grabbed it before he could think of a reason not to, and then the two shut the locker doors behind them just as people entered the room. Glenn put his hand over Ethan’s mouth and nose a little, and Ethan felt himself stop breathing before he forced himself to breath out slowly through his mouth even though it hurt a little. He needed to calm his breathing down, get his head level.

Maybe he should use an improvised flamethrower on these guys. Well … he had the stuff to do it with.

“Hear how Jason found his wife? Min-seo or whatever?”

Another man chuckled. “He used to call her Minnie like Minnie Mouse,” said the man, and it felt like a bottomless pit had opened in Ethan’s stomach. No other couple could possibly have those names, the coincidences were too big.

“There were four of those people who came in here right? Two Chinese, right?”

There was something that sounded like a scuffle, or maybe the people moving things around. “Think they saw us and Pete and Durkie?”

“Nah.”

If it beat any louder, Ethan was sure they’d find them because of his heart. Nervously, Ethan eased the lid off the hairspray can, shaky finger going over the top of it, ready to spray it as his right thumb went over the striker on the lighter. The men were coming closer to the locker; it was inevitable. He raised the hairspray can a little, the lighter in front of it.

“Think there’s anything useful in this?”

The improvised flamethrower definitely worked.

As soon as the man had opened the locker door, Ethan had held the lighter and hairspray up and let them loose on the man. The flames shot out farther and larger than what Ethan had been expecting and the sound wasn’t what Ethan was expecting, but certainly hit its target. The man wailed, falling backwards as the flames reached up his face, blinding the man as his face caught fire and burned. Ethan cut the flame, flipping out his knife and threw it towards the other man, barely taking a second to understand what he was doing because he was moving and throwing the knife, hitting him in the throat. He pulled out another of his knives and stabbed it through the first’s forehead, where the flames hadn’t yet reached. He yanked it back out and moved towards the other man, pulled out the first knife and ended the man’s misery before he could turn.

“Think there’s more?” asked Glenn, voice whisper quiet.

“You heard him – there’s Pete and Durkie,” he replied, looking over at Glenn from where he was crouched over the deceased man. He checked the man over, grabbed his weapons – only a pistol and a bowie knife – and turned back to Glenn. “We gotta check on Tara and Heath,” he said, after Glenn had done the same with the dead man, the flames out on his face.

Glenn nodded and led the way out of their section. Ethan felt like he was going to explode – the Saviors were here.

A man walked into Ethan’s path – a tall white guy – and he was immediately shot down, with one bullet to the head from Ethan. He saw the hesitation from Glenn from the corner of his eye, could feel the unwillingness to kill someone coming off him in waves. So he did it for him.

There was one guy left, assuming that there were no more people outside. Assuming there _were_ … Ethan guessed that their survival rates just shot down.

The two kept low, hidden away in the shadows, keeping the man’s body hidden as they got to where Heath and Tara were supposed to meet them up and found it deserted. He peeked around the corner of the fallen desk he was hiding behind and checked the way they had come, towards the entrance that was in full view.

There was only one car there. Possibility of just those four men rose a little higher. Checking that the ways were clear, Ethan moved across to the west side, Glenn hot on his heels. They kept low, the wall to their side as they moved as silently as possible. Whenever Ethan’s movements got louder, Glenn pressed his hand to Ethan’s shoulder, to remind him to quieten his steps.

They were about to around a corner when they heard a voice.

“I ain’t askin’ twice. Where’s the rest of yer group?” a man asked, his voice growly and roughened.

“What friends?” asked Tara, though her voice was nervous. The man laughed, and it made Ethan’s skin crawl. He edged closer, saw that the man had his back to him. That was a mistake. Ethan held his knife tightly as he crept forwards, eyes moving quickly from the floor to where the man was, making sure not to walk on any debris.

And then he jumped up.

The knife went into the man’s neck at an odd angle, and Ethan felt it collide with the bone in his neck as his legs wrapped around the man’s middle and he grabbed the man’s hair on his head. Quickly, Ethan pulled it out and them immediately back in in quick succession. The man collapsed under him and he landed on top of him and he pulled the knife out again and put it through the man’s ear.

Pulling the knife out of the man one final time, Ethan breathed in deeply, feeling the warm slick blood droplets dripping down his face and neck and arms. He looked up at the two. “Are you OK?”

Tara’s eyes were wide, and Heath’s jaw had slackened. “You just –”

“He was a Savior. Durkie. Fuckin’ prick too,” Ethan spat, looking at the man’s face. “He tried hurting Eli.”

“Who’s Eli?” asked Heath. “That brother of yours?” Ethan nodded, wiping at his face.

Glenn came up from behind him, putting his hand on Ethan’s back. “Let’s go home,”

 

* * *

 

 

When Ethan got back, he tried not to think about what he did. Four people in one day had lost their lives because of him. One of them he knew. Aaron was on watch and Eric was back home (since when was it home?) but Ethan didn’t want to see either of them yet; didn’t know if he wanted to see them in the state he was in.

So he went to find Enid.

He hadn’t spoken to her much recently, especially since she and Carl had a tendency to go out beyond the walls to read comics whilst risking walkers coming down on them. As much as Ethan needed to remember what it was like out there, he didn’t like what he became when out there.

“The blood,” said Enid after she’d open the door and let him in. She’d led him to her bedroom. “Whose is it?”

Ethan shrugged. “Man named Durkie. I think. He was with the Saviors, the people I reckon have Eli. He was in there with us, were threatening Heath and Tara. He never knew I was there.”

She sighed, then reached for the handkerchief and the bottle of water, wetting the handkerchief and wiped at his face gently. “You’ve got singes,”

“Improv flamethrower. Melted a man’s face off, threw a knife in another’s neck and shot another point blank.”

Enid paused in her motions of cleaning his face and neck. “You improvised a flamethrower?” she repeated.

Ethan held out the lighter that he’d kept. “This and hairspray. You can use deodorant, but hairspray has a more violent result. Bigger flame too, I think,”

“Did you get what you needed?” she asked. He nodded, pulling the items out of his bag. “You can fix them up here. I’ll sit against the door,”

He used the water and the handkerchief to clean his hands before he got to work.

It didn’t take him that long, and the dehumidifier worked after some gentle persuasion, but that meant taking out his hearing aids to do it. With Enid in the room, back pressed against the door, it was a little less terrifying. Whilst it dehumidified, he taught her some more sign. She was better at it than Daryl was, and definitely more so than Carl, who did his best and was alright considering he’d never learned anything like it before. He was thankful that these people were kind enough to him and were willing to learn sign language for when he wouldn’t be able to hear him.

( _Losing his hearing was inevitable. Soon everything would be quietquietquietquiet._ )

The first thing Ethan had taught Enid was all the various swear words in ASL, because c’mon, people who wanted to learn how to sign usually wanted to learn how to swear in it first.

He was beyond glad when he could put his hearing aids back in and could practically feel the difference of the new tubing and now properly dehumidified aids.

“How are you and Carl?” asked Enid, a faint look in her features that Ethan had to concentrate to see. “Don’t give me that look,”

Ethan nearly rolled his eyes at her but knew the action would result in a either a pillow or a knife thrown at his face. “OK?” he said, unsure enough that it came out a question. “Why?”

“You know why, dipshit.”

She threw the nearest thing at him – a sock. He batted it aside. “Nothing’s happened. He remembered the last things we said to each other, but nothing has happened,”

“Because you haven’t let it,” she said knowingly. “You’re allowed to let it happen,” she told him, the look back on her face as she kept her gaze steady on him. “Is this because of Eli or because of today?”

“Maybe it’s because of every day,” he said, voice quiet to his own broken ears. He shrugged his shoulders, the pain long since gone from his left one, if sometimes present when he overexerted himself. “I’m not out there looking for Eli. I almost don’t see the point, but I can’t give up. But I can’t do it alone because I don’t know how,” he said, the words coming out like vomit, unable to stop himself. “And I don’t know if I’ll like the result of what I find. If he’s dead … then I don’t know how I’ll deal or live with it after because I could’ve been there sooner or just been there for him like I’m supposed to. I don’t even know if the Saviors really have my brother.”

Enid came and sat next to him, putting her arm around him. “You’ll find Eli. Somehow. You might like the results and you might not. I’ll help you. Aaron and Eric too. Carl’s group will too if you ask them. They treat you like family now. They’ll help you search for your brother.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The next day, Ethan spent his time with Carl, just throwing the ball backwards and forwards between them. It was nice and quiet, and Carl was getting better at catching it.

“Left,” he said, throwing the ball to Carl’s left. He caught it and threw it back. “Right,” Carl leaned over a little to the right but still caught it. “Low,” the ball was thrown to the other boy’s stomach area, but he still caught it, though fumbled little. “Low,” he said again, but threw it higher, above Carl’s head.

“The hell? You said low,” said Carl, looking a little annoyed as he grabbed the ball from where it slowed to a stop at his feet.

Ethan raised an eyebrow at the other boy. “You have to watch my movements, see where my eyes are going, how I move my hands. That way, you can be prepared. I can’t just tell you the answer each time, you need to learn how to deal with having just one eye now,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

This made Carl look a little annoyed. “How am I supposed to do that? I have one eye.”

Ethan rolled his eyes then took his BTEs off, switching them off. “And I can’t hear. But I’ll still kick your ass at this.” he said, then tossed them over to Carl. “Keep ‘em for now. Just because I can’t hear, doesn’t really mean I have a disadvantage.”

Another hour later, Ethan had caught the ball more times than Carl, using his eyes more, unable to hear whatever Carl told him. They were soon to do practice with Carl’s gun, getting him used to using it with his left hand.

“It just feels weird,” said Carl, holding the empty gun in his hand, looking at the target. “And my aim is off,”

“Well, obviously your aim is gonna be off, your world is off balance. Why don’t we use darts instead? There’s a dartboard in my room at my house and I’m sure Aaron kept the darts,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Carl looked down at his gun in defeat, but nodded, letting him lead him to his house.

Once they got there, Ethan got the darts from Aaron and Eric’s bedroom, and took turns with Carl. Carl’s darts hit the door the board was hung on more than the actual dartboard.

“Sorry about your door,” said Carl a little sheepishly, blood coming to his face in embarrassment. He got his darts and came back to stand beside Ethan, who got his three in and around the bullseye.

“I kinda expected it, so it’s fine,” he said, retrieving his. He watched how Carl took aim and stopped him. “You’re aiming too far to the left,” he said, walking around Carl, readjusting how he was holding the dart.

Carl looked annoyed. “But I’m aiming straight at it.”

Ethan moved Carl’s hand, aiming it at the dartboard. “That’s your depth perception all out of whack. You don’t have the right to balance it out, so your eye is gonna have to do the work for both,” he told him. “Try now and try not to move your arm too much to the left, and let’s see if it’s worked.”

Looking a little embarrassed and hurt, Carl threw the dart. It hit the dartboard but was a way off the bullseye. “There we go, pretty boy,” he said, turning to look at Carl. “You just gotta learn how to move around with everything a little to the side.” He smiled at the other boy and found he couldn’t tell what was wrong with him. “You OK, pretty boy?”

Carl nodded, but still looked conflicted. “How do you understand yourself?” he asked, lifting his head up so that he could look at Ethan. Ethan had a growth spurt and was now a little taller than Carl, the height difference visible. “I mean, how did you figure out that you’re _Ethan_ and not what you were before? How do you figure out if you like guys or not?”

Ethan shrugged. “My mom never made me wear dresses and let me do whatever I wanted, let me play with army soldier toys, race cars and Barbie dolls because she didn’t want to force anything on me. For the most part she just let me get to the conclusion myself. Something always felt off about being … being a girl –” it was always difficult to talk about before he came out, especially to someone like Carl. Especially _to_ Carl. “– and it was really confusing because I thought I had to be one because I have the parts for it, but I just couldn’t deal with it.” He could feel the beginnings of the body dysphoria settling in, and pressed a hand to his face, fingernails digging in a little. “And then she snuck me a book,” he laughed a little, turning his eyes form Carl’s face briefly. “A book on transgender people, and then it felt like everything made sense because there was finally a word to what I was feeling, and it felt _right_ ,”

He clenched his jaw a little, mouth pulling upwards slightly. “Don’t know how she got that book, but it helped realise that what I was feeling about myself wasn’t weird and was something that other people felt. I didn’t get to tell her that I’m actually Ethan and not … _her_ , but I think she knew.” He blinked several times, trying to ease the stinging in his eyes. _Boys don’t cry_ , his father told him. His father could fuck off. “And the whole liking guys thing? Was kinda easy to figure out and come to terms with after the whole farce I had with figuring out I’m actually a guy and not a girl. If you are thinking that you like guys, it’s totally fine. And if you like girls as well as liking guys, there’s a word for it,” he said, then held Carl’s shaking hand.

“My dad would probably be fine with it, I mean, how he explained the term transgender, he’s gotta be OK with his son liking guys too, right?”

Ethan nodded his head, biting his lower lip a little. “Listen, Carl, you can be gay or bi or whatever the fuck else you might be, and I won’t judge you. Hell, I expected to get killed for being trans, but I got a nice surprise in being accepted, so people are gonna be fine with you being with or liking someone that might not be a girl, if a little ignorant about it. If you need someone else to talk to about this shit, Aaron and Eric are pretty cool,”

Something else still seemed to be bugging Carl. “C’mon man, I ain’t gonna tell your dad or anyone else if you don’t wanna. Can stay between us,”

“I just … I don’t know. I know Dad would be fine with it, but I can see him being disappointed at it? Because-because what if he’d not love me anymore if I was with another guy?”

Ethan squeezed the boy’s hand, offering him a smile. “Your dad is one of the chilliest guys I’ve seen when it comes to the whole queer-and-trans thing. If you do like guys, he’s not gonna be disappointed or mad or love you any less because he _cares_ about you. I’ve never seen a father care about his son as much or as fiercely as he does you. Though, I do think he’d give the guy a shovel talk or two.”

To his utter surprise, Carl pulled him into a hug, near enough collapsing into Ethan’s arms. “I’m so scared,” whispered Carl, and Ethan had barely caught on to what he’d said.

“Why?” he asked, pulling away so that he could look at Carl.

It looked like it was something Carl didn’t want to talk about. He sat down on Ethan’s bed and pulled him down to sit on it with him. Carl sighed, wiping away the tears, keeping his eye on the ground. “You heard about Terminus, right?”

“Vaguely,” said Ethan, nodding his head a little. “With the fucknut cannibals?”

Carl nodded, sniffling a little. “Uh, before we got there, this group found us, me, dad and Michonne, and they were pissed because Dad killed someone in their group. I’d been asleep in an abandoned truck, and one of them grabbed me and pulled me out, in-into the road we were on,”

“Carl, you don’t –”

“I need to,” he said, cutting Ethan off. “He was gonna do it. Had me pinned down and I couldn’t-couldn’t grab my knife. Sometimes when I’m up at night, I can still feel him on me, the asphalt against my face and his breath on my neck. He was really gonna do it to me,” he said, and Ethan didn’t know what to do.

Nervously, Ethan put his arm around Carl’s shoulders and pulled him to his chest, letting the boy cry into him. He felt sick. “Happened to me,” he whispered into Carl’s hair, the cowboy hat long since dropped on the floor in front of them. He felt Carl stiffen in his arms. “When I was with the Saviors. One of them had, uh, had been weird. Freaked me and Mom out enough that we even went to my dad and told him we didn’t trust the guy. Dad he just, he just laughed it off, told us that I was a growing girl and should feel happy that someone had taken an interest in me. Prick was like ten years older than my dad.” He sniffled, blinking several times again as the memory resurfaced. He’d tried to forget about it as much as possible. “But the guy still cornered me. I’d been having really weird phantom pains that day, could barely walk, but I needed to get stuff for Eli, so he went and played in our room with the door locked and I went out to get the stuff. Can’t even remember what I was supposed to get, but it’s whatever.”

Carl put his arm around Ethan’s waist, fingers feeling as hot as the sun over the material of Ethan’s clothing. “But he found me before I got to get the shit, and … and, well, I think you get the picture. See, the thing is, Negan, the top guy, doesn’t allow _that_. He lets other shit happen, but not that. And he fucking heard me screaming, actually came running to check it out – I heard him running and I couldn’t believe someone might be saving me from what was happening – and he pulled the guy off me, screamed bloody murder at him and beat the fuck out of him. Don’t know what terrified me the most. Couldn’t stop crying because everything hurt, and the guy even broke my arm to stop me from getting away.”

“Ethan,” said Carl, almost unheard by the boy. He lifted himself up from him but didn’t let Ethan’s arms leave him. The sorrow and understanding in Carl’s face nearly broke him.

“Negan tied him down, held out the guy’s knife to me and told me I should kill him. He’d just messed me up and I was still shaking and crying and all I wanted to do was leave. But Negan told me that I had to do it, because of what the guy did to me. Told me exactly what I should do to make the guy feel pain, and I did exactly as he said. I cut the man’s throat and watched him bleed out until he was dead. And then I went to stab him from turning, but Negan held out the bat he has – he calls it Lucille, after his wife, I think – and told me that if I was going to live in this world, that I had to understand all the darkness in it. Told me that he’d seen me play baseball before with Laura, said I had a good swinging arm or whatever the fuck it was.” He laughed a little, and it caught on a sob. “He fucking said that if I didn’t bash that fucker’s head in, he’d make Eli do it. So I did. He said he’d tell me when to stop and it felt like years before he did.”

Carl lifted a hand and wiped the hot tears from Ethan’s face. “We’ll kill Negan,” he promised. “Every last one of those Saviors too. And we’ll help you find Eli,”

He nodded before he rested his forehead against Carl’s. Both boys just breathed together in silence, arms around each other as their heads filled with the knowledge of what each other spoke. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promised, his hand pressed to Carl’s cheek. “I won’t.”

To his surprise, Carl kissed his forehead, uttering the same promise back to him. “Lay with me? Please?” asked Carl. Ethan nodded and the two laid down on the small bed, knees knocking together before they got comfortable, heads close together on the single pillow on the bed. Carl was laid on his right side and Ethan on his left. Their arms were entangled together, but it kept them close.

“Who killed the guy?” asked Ethan, voice barely picking up on his BTEs.

“Dad,” answered Carl, and Ethan had to read his lips to figure it out. He looked back up to his friend’s remaining eye and saw his gaze snap up to meet his eyes. “Can you hear me like this?” he asked, the words not picking up at all, but Ethan caught on to what he was saying.

‘No,’ he signed, using his right hand, moving it in front of the two so that they could both see it.

‘Sorry,’ Carl replied in sign, and it brought a small smile to Ethan’s face. Carl was getting better at sign. The boy held his hand out to Ethan, flat between the small gap between them. Ethan shifted a little on the bed and pressed a fingertip to the tip of one of Carl’s, going up and down his fingers, into the palm of his hand.

Then Ethan got a thought. “I fucking hope this isn’t the hand you jerk off with,” he said, loud enough to get picked up by his BTEs. The sound that followed was Carl’s laugh, sudden and brass.

“No, you’re good,” Carl finally replied, amusement in his tone. Ethan put his left hand under his head, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. He drew a circle in Carl’s hand, then poked his hand twice and drew a curved line within the circle. “Are you telling me to smile more?” he asked.

“Do you some good, pretty boy,” Ethan replied, glancing up at Carl with a small smile on his own face. “Make a pretty face prettier,”

Carl hummed a reply, and Ethan went back to tracing his finger over Carl’s hand. “Is that our thing?” he asked. Ethan frowned. “You always calling me that?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “To honour our first meeting – me punching you in the throat and kicking your ass.” He looked back up at Carl, smile playing at his face. “Jeez, how does it feel to get your ass kicked by the weak, deaf boy?”

“In retrospect, pretty good,” said Carl, which Ethan didn’t quite understand. “And you’re not weak,”

He ran his finger back down Carl’s forefinger. “Pretty weird, pretty boy,” he said, huffing a little laugh, and felt Carl’s laugh on his face. “There were Saviors out there today. On the run. I killed them.”

“How many?”

“Only four,” he answered, voice casual as his stomach churned away inside him. “Knew one of them – tried to hurt Eli one time. The others wouldn’t have killed them, they’re too nice. So I did. Glenn and me hid away in a locker, and I burn one’s face off, stabbed another, shot the third and near enough ripped the last guy’s head off,” he shrugged a shoulder. “They didn’t know I was there. I just did it without thinking, because I didn’t want them hurting Glenn or Tara or Heath. They probably have families waiting for them to return, but I stopped that from happening. They could’ve been some of the nicer people with the Saviors, but I didn’t risk it,”

Carl held Ethan’s hand in his, and they could see the tremors in Ethan’s hand. “How many people have you killed?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know. That man had been the seventh person, I think. The first three tried to hurt my mom and me and Eli. My dad had ditched us, and I wasn’t going to let them hurt us. Others were from other groups we’d stayed with when my dad returned to us. They’d tried to do stuff, weird bad stuff, and my dad made me stop them because he didn’t think he should’ve wasted his energy on them. I don’t know how many Saviors I killed when I got Eli out of there. Ten, twenty, I lost count.”

“You did it to survive. You got Eli out of there,”

“But now he’s back in again,” he said, trying to compose himself. “Sometimes it feels like I’m a stranger to myself. After everything that’s happened, it’s really hard to see anything of what I used to be, and I don’t know if I want to see any of that, because all that there was before this shit was a shitty dad and girl stuff.”

The boy beside him was quiet for a moment. “Changing is a part of getting older. You’ve changed more than me because you’re trans, and that change is inevitable. We had to change to survive out here, and as shit as it may be, we’ve had to do bad shit to live as long as we have.” He paused, glancing over Ethan’s shoulder to the bedroom door. “Aaron and Eric are back,” he informed Ethan when he saw the confused look on his face.

“Stay? Until I have to go for my shift?”

He nodded, then pulled Ethan closer to him, resting his head atop his. “Get some rest before you go. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan was on watch, because he refused to sleep, and sleep refused him, he waited in the dark on the little wooden tower, awaiting Rick and Daryl to return from their run. The walker below, trapped on one of the traps stayed motionless, almost as if it was really dead. When the lights from a car came to its attention, it came back to its undead life, reaching for it.

Out of habit, Ethan crouched a little, trying to see past the blinding light for the driver. It didn’t matter because the driver did their light signal. Ethan gave a sharp whistle to the person on the gate below and they opened it. Sasha came up onto the wooden tower, relieving Ethan of watch duty, even though he knew he could’ve gone the rest of the night.

He followed the car to Denise’s place, and watched as Rick and Daryl carried out a man in a dark trench coat and beanie hat. The man had a cool beard and long hair that covered his white, if a little tanned, skin.

“What’re yeh doin’ up so late?” asked Daryl, near enough grunting out the words from the weight of the man he was helping to carry.

“Was doing watch duty. Fuck’s this guy?”

“Annoying lil bastard,” Daryl replied as Rick knocked on the door. “Go on home. Aaron and Eric will be waitin’ up for yeh.”

Ethan rolled his eyes but saluted the man. “Night.”


	9. Christ Almighty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more some dialogue and action from the TV show. A little warning for the end of the chapter for any fellow transmen/anyone else possibly affected - Ethan thinks about pregnancies and feels weird about it, especially put into terms around him. It doesn't go into too much depth, but it is there.  
> Enjoy!

“So, how’d you get out?” asked Rick, leaning on the table as he looked at the man called Jesus – or rather, Paul Rovia. Daryl walked behind him, coming close to Ethan who was leaning against the wall beside the lamp. Across the table from Rick sat Michonne and Carl. Glenn was sat at the opposite end of the table from Jesus/Paul, whilst Abraham continued to pace between the space of the wall and Glenn’s seat. Glenn was casually fiddling with his gun, cleaning it. Maggie was sat beside Rick, eyes analysing the stranger.

Ethan had suspected something was going on between Rick and Michonne but didn’t think it would get exposed like that. Still, he found the entire thing amusing. Of course some stranger would somehow reveal their relationship. He didn't envy them.

“One guard can’t cover two exists or third-floor windows,”

Ethan snorted. “They sure as hell can’t,” he said quietly, the humour barely contained in his voice.

“Knots untie, locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?” Jesus said as Michonne shifted in her seat.

“Right,” said Daryl from his position beside Ethan. His shoulder pressed against Ethan’s subtly, which eased some of the tension in Ethan’s body. It felt weird to see an outsider sitting there, and even weirder to think that he had been an outsider once.

“I checked out your arsenal,” Jesus continued, looking between his hands below the table and the table itself. “I haven’t seen anything like that in a long time,”

Ethan couldn’t help himself, because he was turning into a cheeky little shit, as he turned to Daryl, whispering, “D’you think that’s the only arsenal he checked out?”

“You’re well equipped, but your provisions are low,” the man said over Ethan, though Ethan could’ve sworn he saw the man flash a brief grin at him. “Very low for the amount of people you have. Fifty-four?”

Maggie was quick to correct him. “More than that.”

Ethan didn’t miss the surprised look on Paul’s face in the few seconds it took him to respond. “Well, I appreciate the cookie,” he said, changing the subject. Ethan wondered if he did that on purpose. “My compliments to the chef,”

“Yeah, she ain’t here,” said Daryl from beside Ethan, moving closer to Paul.

“Look, we got off to a bad start,” Paul said, turning to look at Daryl, though Ethan saw the way his eyes turned to him, the gaze going over the very visible hearing aids he had. It made him self-conscious. “But we’re on the same side, the living side. You and Rick had every reason to leave me there, but you didn’t.” Oh, Ethan caught that _look_ Paul/Jesus gave Daryl. He wasn’t sure which name to refer to the man as. Maybe Jesus. It was more amusing to refer to the man as Jesus instead of his real name. “I’m from a place that’s a lot like this one. Part of my job is searching out with other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things and both of you look like trouble. I was wrong. You’re good people. And this is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other.”

Glenn took this opportunity to speak up. “Do you have food?” he asked.

Ethan’s stomach growled just at the mention of it, because as much as they were trying to grow food, it wasn’t going well, and they were rationing as hard as they could to make sure people were still able to eat, even if it wasn’t all that much at the end of the day. It wasn’t the first time Ethan went hungry, and it certainly wasn’t the last. He missed Aaron’s mean spaghetti.

“We’ve started to raise livestock. We scavenge, we grow – everything from tomatoes to sorghum.”

“Tell us why we should believe you.” said Rick, lifting his hand up as he turned to look at Jesus. In fairness, that was a good point. They’d had their fair share of dealing with bad people, each of them in turn, so it was only natural to not believe what Jesus was telling them. Though Ethan couldn’t help but believe him. Maybe it was something to do with youthful faith, or whatever other bullshit people used to spout before the apocalypse. Maybe it was because this guy was _Jesus_.

“I’ll show you. If we take a car, we can be back there in a day, and you can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer.” Jesus said, leaning a little closer with his words. His body language made it all seem believable, which made Ethan worry if the man was conscious on what to do with his body to try and trick everyone into thinking he was telling the truth.

Maggie leaned forwards in her seat, a look akin to realisation on her face. “Wait, you’re looking for _more_ settlements. You mean you’re already trading with other groups?”

“Your world’s about to get a whole lot bigger,” Jesus said in lieu of answering, a smug ass look on his face as he leaned back in his seat.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Sounds fun, I guess,” he said, sighing. “So I take it we’re going?”

Rick inclined his head in a nod towards the boy. “Yes. Our group will come with and check this place out, see if it’s really worth it or not,”

“Family fun day out, I’ll get my bag and the candy,” Ethan muttered a little sarcastically, heaving himself off the wall as the others began to disperse.

Daryl caught his eye and signed, 'Are you up for coming?'

'Yes. I have nothing better to do,' he replied, aware of Jesus looking at them both. He knew the others were looking too, but only in passing. 'Don't do anything stupid until I come back.' he told Daryl with a stern look on his face. The man only smiled in return.

Instead of being around the others, he went to see where Eric was – which meant seeing Denise and Tara before heading off, which would be nice. He kinda wished he’d see Aaron too, but he was busy on watch.

“So, who’s the guy? Jesus, right?” asked Eric, drying his hands on the towel he’d had on his shoulder.

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “He’s alright, I guess. Bit … peculiar, I think,” he said as Eric helped him pack his bag. All he was taking was his gun and some knives and water. And a book, Eric let Ethan borrow one book a week from his collection, this week’s was _‘Salem’s Lot’_.

“Trust him?”

“Not really. Not _yet_ , if this deal thing pulls through. We’re apparently gonna talk with Jesus’ leader – which isn’t God, surprisingly – and see if shit goes south or not,” he said. He heard Tara snort at his God comment and he looked over and smiled at her.

The bag zipped shut, Ethan swung it onto his back. “Your shoulder should be fine today, just don’t overexert yourself.” Denise informed him.

He saluted her before leaving. Eric gave him a hug before he left though, which had been a nice surprise for Ethan and he almost didn’t wanna pull away from him. But he had to and was soon gone.

Ethan made his way to the others, and overheard Carl saying he wasn’t going to go with them because of his face. He understood where Carl was coming from, in a sense. As much as he was excited to see what this new place was, and just as nervous to find out, he was worried what people would say or do to him if they saw his aids, or worse, figured out he was trans. He had to count himself immensely lucky that the people in Alexandria – or rather, Rick’s group – didn’t have a problem and were nice and supported him in their own little ways.

“Let’s chew up some asphalt!” yelled Abraham as he got to the RV, slapping the top of the doorjamb of the RV as he entered. Rick and Ethan soon followed after him. In the time that Ethan had known Abraham, he’d found that the man said the weirdest of sayings.

The RV was soon moving, and Ethan was soon reading the book Eric had given him. He cracked his neck and flipped the page, leaning against Daryl’s arm, ignoring Jesus’ gaze on him. “I don’t think I ever caught your name?” Jesus said, and Ethan looked up, and yep, he was looking at him.

“Cos you didn’t,” said Ethan, offering a smile before he went back to his book. “It’s Ethan Dolori.”

“Nice to meet you, Ethan,” he said, sounding nice and genuine. “Do you know ASL?”

To prove a point, he let go of the book and signed Jesus in ASL; touching the tip of the middle finger of his right hand into the centre of the palm in his left hand, then touched his left middle finger into the palm of his right hand. His right hand was dominant, which was why it went first.

Jesus laughed. “Impressive,” he said. “When did you learn?”

He shrugged. “Probably around the time I started to lose my hearing,” he said, giving up on his book as he looked across at Jesus. “Do you know sign?”

“A little bit. Though, not as much as you, I suppose,” he said. “And your father?” he asked, looking at Daryl.

Holy shit.

Ethan could only gape at Jesus.

“Ain’t his father,” said Daryl, voice a little gruffer than usual as Ethan bit back his amusement. Ethan signed ‘oh my god’, thumb on his cheekbone as his middle finger touched above his eyebrow. It was either that one or put the rest of his fingers above his eyebrow. It was what his mom taught him, so he hoped that was the actual sign, or a variant of it.

“Sorry, just a simple misinterpretation,” said Jesus, holding up his hands, much to Ethan’s amusement. “If you don’t mind my asking, where are your parents?”

“With the Saviors,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Jesus.

“Yo, Rick,” said Daryl, fingers pulled the blinds up. “What’s goin’ on?”

“We got a crash ahead,” Rick replied. “Looks like it just happened.” The RV followed the road, driving alongside the crash. It looked grim and didn’t look like it had happened accidentally.

“It’s one of ours,” Jesus said, getting up to peer out of the window.

Ethan grimaced. “Shit, man,”

They all got out of the RV to inspect it. Jesus looked particularly upset. He turned around as Rick pulled out his gun on him, the others weary but ready. Abraham walked ahead a little as Ethan looked at Jesus. The guy was legit. “If this is a trick, it won’t end well for you.”

“My people are in trouble, they don’t … we don’t have a lot of fighters. I know how it looks, but I’ll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?” he asked, holding out his hands.

Daryl shook his head as he neared his friend and the stranger. “Nah, we got tracks right here,” he said, pointing towards the tracks. They led to one of the buildings nearby. Rick banged on the window of the door loudly, gun raised in case someone or something was inside.

“They’ve gotta be in there,” said Jesus, apparently ignoring the guns on him. His desperation to see the people from his community clear on his face, enough to tide Ethan over into believing the guy was good.

Abraham was looking at Rick for the lead, even with his body turned to Jesus. “We moving in or what?” he asked.

“How do we know this ain’t firecrackers in a trashcan?” asked Daryl as he walked around Jesus to Ethan.

“You don’t,”

Ethan watched as Rick moved towards Jesus, getting into his personal space a little bit. He could see the man that had once terrified him from going near their group. “We’ll get your people. You’re staying here with at least one of us.” Jesus looked behind him to look at Michonne, who, from the looks of it, Rick had been looking at.

He sighed, knowing whose job that’d be. “That’s the deal,” Michonne said.

“And I guess that’s my job?” Ethan asked, raising his hand a little as he cocked his head to the side. “The deaf and therefore weaker one doesn’t go inside and doesn’t risk anyone else’s lives, I’m guessing?”

Rick turned to look at him. “You’re more than capable of looking after yourself, you’ve dealt with pricks before. This guy will be a piece of cake for you.”

“Will you stay with him?” asked Glenn, and Ethan heard Maggie agree as he watched Rick tie Jesus’ hands behind his back.

Then the others went inside. Maggie raised her gun at the man as Ethan held his knives. None of them said a word. Inside, they could hear the yells of the others. Jesus said nothing, too tense and worried about the people inside. They were soon back out, and from the sounds of it in the back of the RV, one of the people they rescued was a doctor. Ethan went back to reading his book, holding the worn and tattered pages in his hands.

“Why’s there a deaf kid with us?” asked one of the men – Freddie or something. “Ain’t that a bit useless?”

Ethan raised a middle finger at him. “Why don’t you go suck my dick,” he said, not taking his eyes from the pages.

Soon enough, he heard Jesus declare that they were at their destination. How exciting. They all clambered out of the RV into the mud and looked at the community atop the hill.

“That’s us. That’s the Hilltop.” Jesus said, and Ethan nearly groaned.

“It looks like a pile of fuckin' shit,” he muttered.

The people on the gates had spears and wanted their guns when they'd approached. After a brief argument, Jesus got them to keep their guns because he liked them and trusted them. It seemed all he wanted was their trust in return. Getting Rick’s trust looked a lot harder than it seemed. Ethan didn't know how he'd managed to get it or if he even had it.

“Open the gates, Kal,” said Jesus, and as the Lord commanded, so it was done.

They walked inside, and Ethan felt like he was in modern medieval times with the armoury, little farm animals and crops being grown inside. The doctor went off with the Freddie man and some others as Rick’s group took their time to adjust themselves to being inside a different community. The walls were made of wood and metal from the looks of it, and rusty metal at that. Ethan wasn’t sure if he’d like to stay there.

The homes that the people seemed to be staying in were trailers. He felt glad that he had an actual house to stay in in Alexandria.

“There was a materials yard for a power company nearby,” Jesus was telling the group, and Ethan had to walk a little closer to hear him from where he was trailing behind the group. “That’s how we put up the walls. A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them.”

He further told them that the reason people knew of the place was because of the large house, Barrington House, because it used to be a museum. He led them inside, sounding a little eager.

Ethan followed Daryl, keeping a little closer to him. He still heard the “good gracious Ignatius,” that Abraham said. Not ten seconds after, some doors opened, and a man walked in.

“Jesus. You’re back.”

The man didn’t sound very happy. He was a balding man, with a bit of a gut and skin that looked close to being a bit burned if he went outside any longer. Just looking at the man made Ethan despise him. There was something about the man that didn’t sit right with Ethan; he made him antsy.

“With guests,” the man added as an almost afterthought, eyeing them all up in turn. When his eyes landed on Ethan, his eyes went to the hearing aids. Just knowing that the man knew made Ethan want to punch his lights out. Then to his horror, the man’s eyes went from his face to his chest. The discomfort was enough to almost trigger the dysphoria he often felt, because he wasn’t wearing his binder, so his chest wasn’t as flat as it could be.

“Everyone, this is Gregory.” A name to a dickish face that finally turned away from staring at Ethan’s body. Glancing up at the others, Ethan saw that the others had definitely caught on to what Gregory had just been doing. “He keeps the trains running on time around here.”

“I’m the boss,” said Gregory, interrupting Jesus. Ethan surmised that Gregory wouldn’t be the boss for much longer.

Rick nodded his head, and Ethan could see him losing his patience a little. Ethan could sympathise. “Well, I’m Rick, we have this community –”

Then Gregory did something Ethan didn’t expect him to do. “Why don’t you all get cleaned up, hmm?” Ethan looked up in surprise and saw amusement on Michonne’s face. None of them had expected Gregory to interrupt Rick. Ethan looked at Daryl, signing ‘oh my god’ at him. Daryl didn’t look too impressed either, signing it back to him with a nod of his head.

“We’re fine,” Rick said, but Gregory appeared to want to assert his masculine dominance.

“Jesus can show you where you can get washed up and you can come back down when you’re ready.” And then he got up into Rick’s face, which sent an alarm for Ethan. “It’s hard to keep this place _clean_ ,”

He couldn’t believe the man had just said that. Ethan could feel the underlying sense the man was giving, that _he_ was in charge of the place, of them, that they were shit on the end of his shoe. He was trying to use his position of power to manipulate them and his community’s people.

“Yeah, sure,” Rick said, and from the looks of things, he looked utterly done with Gregory’s shit.

“Follow me,” said Jesus, going up the stairs, the others following his lead. Ethan thought he heard Rick talking to Maggie, but the words were too quiet to discern.

Maggie and Ethan had been allowed to clean up first, and Ethan didn’t bother to do much, just wash off some of the dirt and blood from his hands and face; they were some of the first few downstairs, though Abraham and Daryl hadn’t bothered to properly clean up. After a brief conversation with Abraham about settling down, Daryl came and sat beside Ethan. Ethan wondered why the man was talking to _Daryl_ about settling down; did he see that look Jesus gave Daryl too?

“What’s with that look?”

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “I forgot how … big-headed people could be. He looks like the kinda person to call himself a nice guy when he’s obviously not.” He rolled his eyes as he slouched in his seat. “I’ve not even spoken to him and I hate him,”

From the look on his face, Daryl felt the same.

“I don’t like it here,” he said after a brief pause. He thought he heard footsteps behind him and saw Maggie walk towards the room Gregory was in. “I don’t like _him_ ,” he said, nail on his forefinger scratching at the skin on the side of his thumb without him really noticing.

Daryl put his hand on Ethan’s, stopping the action gently. He gripped Daryl’s hand tightly, the tension in Ethan so high it felt physically painful. “He ain’t goin’ near yeh,” said Daryl, voice gruff but certain. “Saw ‘im lookin’ at yeh, and I ain’t gonna let ‘im do anythin’ to yeh.” Ethan leaned against Daryl’s arm, head resting against his shoulder as he started to draw patterns in the skin of Daryl’s hand, trying to calm himself down. He was thankful that Daryl was letting him do that.

“Might just cry at him and freak him out if he asks something stupid,” Ethan said quietly, keeping his eyes on Daryl’s hand, fully aware of the people entering the area. Silently, Daryl handed him a pen, letting the boy draw patterns into his skin, of spirals and things that looked like leaves. He supposed it was better than taking the skin off his thumb.

 

* * *

 

 

“We want to generate trade, Gregory does. But ammo isn’t something we need,” said Jesus, after everything had gone down between Maggie and Gregory. Maggie hadn’t looked too happy when she’d emerged.

Ethan frowned. “How’s that then?” he asked as Daryl began his pacing which meant he was getting restless and annoyed.

“The walls hold,” he answered, gesturing with an arm slightly, even though they were inside. “We just brought in more medicine. Gregory just wants the best deal possible,”

Daryl finally spoke up. “Yeah, well, we want things too,”

“We need food. We came all this way, we’re gonna get it,” Rick said, and his tone suggested they’d get the food one way or another, which wasn’t something that sat well with Ethan. He didn’t like the idea of forcibly taking food from these people, and Jesus knew where Alexandria was, so there was every possibility of him leading some of his people back for revenge. But Jesus didn’t look like the kind of person to do that, and Rick didn’t seem like the kind to steal food.

“I will talk to him and we will work this out. Circumstances change. We’re doing well now, and you will next. I will make him understand that. Can you give me a few days?”

“We can,” Michonne said for Rick, who agreed. Jesus made a soft laugh in the back of his throat, and about a two seconds later, there was a commotion outside. The front door opened, and a man entered as Gregory appeared from his study.

“What happened?” asked Gregory, sounding serious.

“They’re back,” the man said, much to Ethan’s confusion. It put him on edge. Gregory left, and Rick’s group followed. Ethan stayed a little behind them, the sounds overlapping, making it hard to understand what was really going on.

Gregory approached the three who must’ve just come through the closing gates. “Ethan, what happened to everybody else? Where’s Tim and Marsha?”

Oh, so now there was a second, whiter, much bigger and older Ethan. Great.

“They’re dead.”

“Negan?” asked Gregory, and then Ethan knew coming to the Hilltop was a fucking mistake, especially when the second Ethan confirmed it. “We had a deal,” he said, hands on his hips in a way that made him look like a child trying to be in charge of something important.

The Second Ethan didn’t sound happy. “He said it wasn’t enough.” That sounded like Negan. Ethan swallowed thickly and stepped back, only to bump into Daryl. This couldn’t be happening; how could this be happening? What were the goddamn chances of these people having a deal with Negan? How had Ethan never heard of the Hilltop when he’d been with the Saviors?

“Was the drop light?” the man behind the woman asked. Gregory denied it, but his tone betrayed him.

The Second Ethan spoke up again. “They said they’d keep him alive, return him to us, if I delivered a message to you.” Ethan felt like he had an idea as to where this was going. His hand went to his weapons belt where his knives were sheathed, where his guns were, even though he barely used those ones. The Second Ethan got closer to Gregory. He put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

And then he stabbed him. And of course shit hit the fan. People grabbed Gregory as he collapsed. The Second Ethan was caught by Michonne and Rick, the latter hitting him. Abraham was fighting someone else, and Ethan was quick to run and kick him in the face. Barely a second later, Daryl had come and broke the man’s hand. The Second Ethan screamed about someone killing his brother before Rick stabbed him in the neck.

“Well, fuck.”

“What?” Rick asked, looking at the people of Hilltop as if he hadn’t just killed someone and looked like he’d eaten another.

“Ethan!” the man Daryl broke the hand of screamed. The woman punched Rick and was immediately thrown to the floor by Michonne. Then Jesus had to diffuse everything. Ethan looked back at Abraham as Daryl helped him to a stand. The man was laughing, much to Ethan’s amusement.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, squinting up at the man, seeing a sort of dopey look on his face. “Don’t tell me getting choked is one of your kinks,” he said, grimacing at the concept of it.

The man shook his head. “Nothin’,” he said, grinning at Ethan.

 

* * *

 

 

They were inside Barrington House once more, standing or sitting around in silence in the sort of study room they were allowed to stay in for the moment, waiting for the news of Gregory and an explanation as to what had happened. They didn’t have to wait as long as Ethan had thought, because Jesus had soon returned to them. All the while, Ethan’s mind had been running wild, and he wasn’t sure if he should’ve said something about Negan and the Saviors sooner.

“Dr Carson was able to patch Gregory up,” Jesus said to their group.

“Unfortunately,” Ethan muttered under his breath, and got a nudge in the ribs from Daryl. He shifted closer, pushing Daryl further against the bookshelf he was leaning against.

Jesus didn’t appear to have heard him. “He’s in pain but he’ll live,”

“So what happens now?” asked Michonne from her seat, barely lifting her eyes up to look at Jesus.

Jesus sighed. “Things like that don’t usually happen here but, uh, it’s settled,” he said, pressing his thumb into the palm of his hand, which Ethan guessed was a calming method of his.

And then Rick spoke up, which Ethan had been dreading. “We heard the name ‘Negan’. A while back, Daryl and Abraham had a run-in with his men. Ethan ran away from them with his brother and suspects that they stole Eli back. Who is he?”

“Negan is the head of a group of people he calls the Saviors,” said Ethan and Jesus in weird tandem that freaked Ethan out a little.

“I’m in tune with the Lord,” he said quietly, and heard Abraham snort his amusement from his left.

The man carried on, though did look at Ethan a little weirdly. “As soon as the walls were built, the Saviors showed up. They met with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands and a lot more threats. Then they killed one of us. Rory. He was sixteen years old. They beat him to death right in front of us. Said we needed to understand right off the bat. Gregory’s not good at confrontation. He’s not the leader I would’ve chosen, but he helped make this place what it is, and the people like him.”

Maggie finally spoke up. “He made the deal,”

Ethan knew what the deal was. “It’s half of your everything. Half your supplies, the crops, the livestock, anything Negan wants he gets, and it goes to the Saviors.”

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” asked Michonne, turning her head to look back at Ethan. “If you knew how dangerous these people were, why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe it’s because I never wanted to see them ever again,” he began, hands shaking at his sides. “The way they do things … it’s horrible. I could barley live there. My father just so happened to be one of Negan’s closest men, and they were determined to survive anything. Really, if you fuck with Negan, you die – you so much as look at him the _wrong way_ , you die. Sometimes, you might get an iron to the face, but that’s only if you’re lucky enough to survive betraying Negan. They punish you, make you eat dog food and they take everything that belongs to you and find ways to drive you insane. And even though I never wanna go there again because they’re the _worst_ –” his breath caught in his throat and he felt so sick.

But he had to continue. If they were going to do what Ethan thought they were, then he had to let them understand just what kind of people they were going up against. “They’re the worst and if they have Eli, I guess he’s as good as dead. It’s either that or, y’know, they’ll have found a way to fucking brainwash him because he’s a kid. Negan – the true Negan – he’s a fucking psychopath, and-and he stops at nothing because if he wants something, he gets it.” He wiped a hand over his face. “He knew I’m deaf, knew that finding stuff for hearing aids in general is difficult, so to make up for it, he offered something for my parents. Either I get killed, or he got to marry my mom.”

“What the _fuck_?” asked Abraham. Ethan looked over at him. “What the fuck do you mean _marry your mom_?”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, but he knew. “Negan will let certain things slide, but only if you give him something in return. He thought my mom was exotic because she was a first-generation immigrant, could speak so many languages and was _useful_. And I’m not. I’m deaf, looked like some freaky little girl with too short hair and had too many bruises to be just from the other Saviors. In return of her marrying him, they’d get anything to do with BTEs for me and I’d get better stuff. Eli would live somewhere better and my dad would still get to see my mom but wasn’t allowed to do anything with her. And this fucking psycho has multiple wives because he doesn’t think he should be bound by previous laws, or some kind of bullshit. But if any of his wives betray him, their partners get an iron to the face, or someone dies because that’s not the Savior way.”

Until that point, Daryl had been quiet beside him. But the man was shaking with rage now. “We’ll get yer mom –”

“My mom is as good as dead. And I am too if they ever see my face again. If I try and go after Eli, it’s basically a suicide mission. And I don’t wanna die, but I wanna see my baby brother again. With the walkers, you know that they can kill you with a bite and eat you alive; Negan and the Saviors are so different in ways you wouldn’t be able to imagine. So yeah, my mom is probably dead, probably on the fucking wall and who the fuck knows what happened to Eli. If he’s unlucky, he’s with either my dad or Negan. If he’s lucky, he’s dead.”

He didn’t realise how much he was shaking. He could barely look at any of them now, the tears in his eyes and the hurt in his voice. “You think them killing that Rory guy was horrible? They beat their own in there if you take more food than necessary and you wind up on the fucking walls, as one of those undead pricks. When I go and get Eli, I’ll die in there. If I can get Eli out of there and somewhere that can be safe for five minutes, it’ll be better than being in there. Negan will flay me alive and do whatever it takes to break me apart and reveal everything. And he’ll know every single way to make that happen, fuck, he doesn’t even need to do it _himself_ because there’s crazy bastards that worship him who will do it for him.”

It was only Jesus who looked like he understood what he was saying, what he was feeling.

“Ethan –”

“If you’re going to attack the Saviors, make sure you kill them all. Every last one of them. Confrontation means nothing when they near enough create more of themselves.”

Beside him, Daryl didn’t look like he knew what to do. “Yo, we’ll still do it,”

Ethan shook his head and left the room before Daryl could continue talking.

Everything was becoming too real and confusing too quickly.

Not long after, Jesus found him, sitting behind Barrington, shaking. Ethan felt regret at how much he told them but felt that maybe something could be done about it. “The Saviors, they have your brother?”

“If they still have my dad, found my mom, yeah, they have my brother,” he said miserably. “Going up against them … I can’t do it. I could probably hide myself well enough to sneak my brother out, but that’s going on the thoughts of that they’ve not brainwashed him, and who knows what they’ve done and what they’re capable of now. If I snuck inside, then there’s a high chance I might not make it back out in one piece, or at all. Best case scenario, we both get out, but my dad is on our trail and fuck knows about my mom.”

“Worst case?” Jesus asked, sounding like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Ethan breathed in deeply, taking a shuddering breath. “Worst case scenario is that I don’t get my brother out. He either gets put on the wall, gets the iron or Negan uses him and manipulates him. Worst case is my father finding out and finding out who I am and doing whatever he damn well pleases because who and what I am now is not what I was when I left. Worst case is getting put on the walls or ironed or my dad fucking me up and making me fully deaf. Worst case is seeing my mom die after trying to help us escape and knowing it was my fucking fault because we were scared of Negan and scared of my dad.”

There was silence between the two. Ethan regretted opening his mouth and letting the words spill out. “What do you think is most likely?”

“That everyone dies.”

Jesus pondered for a brief moment. “And what do you hope?”

There wasn’t much hope left in Ethan, not after today. “I hope that Eli is alive, that my mom has him, somehow, some way, and that my dad is dead. I hope that I get a chance to kill Negan because he caused everything to go so wrong.”

“And would you? Kill Negan? Because killing him seems like going down to his level,”

“If I find Eli’s dead, then killing Negan won’t matter. If I kill him or not, it won’t matter because by that time, I might’ve already put a bullet through my head. Eli is the only thing that matters to me, the only person who will always give me a reason for fighting, because he’s just a child and he’s my brother and he needs me. But if he’s died whilst I’ve been somewhere safe, or he died because I wasn’t quick enough, then there’s not much hope for me, and none for those who I track down after.”

Not long after, the group had left the Hilltop, Maggie showing the others her foetus scan. When Ethan had looked at it, he couldn’t see it, wasn’t sure what was supposed to be the forming baby and what was the inside of the womb. He gave it back to her, the image making him feel weird. He could’ve had something like that, maybe, if he still had a uterus, but the hysterectomy he had when he was younger had stopped him from ever having it.

It was weird, because when he was younger, he thought he’d want to have kids, but now he didn’t have the choice to make one, and he didn’t know if he’d survive the mental and physical toll it would put on him. As much as helpful the hysterectomy had been for when he realised he was actually a boy, it did make him curious as to what he would’ve done if he’d had the ability to have a baby.

The thought of having a baby growing in him made him feel weird and bad, and tried to stop thinking about it. The choice wasn’t in his hands anymore and all he could do was keep on going. He had a younger brother to look out for.


	10. Pretty Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly not the longest chapter, but this one does have certain … key points occur.  
> Enjoy!

Ethan was tired. Rick and the others were all planning an attack on the Saviors, which Ethan found ridiculous. He’d done a big speech in the church about going after the Saviors, but it made Ethan feel weird and unsure. And then Rick had asked for his help. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It almost felt as if he was helping to condemn them all.

“You’ve been inside there,” the man said, gesturing to him, and the rest of the people in the church turned to look at him. “You know the layout better than any of us. If you can show us where the armoury is, then that’s all you need to do. We won’t force you to come with us, we can’t ask it of you.” Ethan shifted in his seat beside Aaron. He didn’t like the idea of doing this. Actually going after the Saviors and hunting them all down … as much as he knew that they needed to get rid of people like that, it made him wonder as to what he’d become. Aaron put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders, pulling him a little closer to his side.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, feeling like this was his death sentence. “But I should warn you, they’ve got outposts. Hitting this one spot won’t rid them. I heard Negan once, how they were trying to expand outposts, to stop people hitting the main place, where he lives.”

He then rested his head against Aaron’s shoulder, feeling sick. The man took hold of his hand, trying to ease his shaking. “This won’t go well.”

Once Rick had left the church, Ethan had gone with the others to Rick’s house, to see the map the guy, Andy, had made. He was doing all different kinds of maps. Aaron had tried to help and tell Rick to let Ethan go back with him, but their leader hadn’t relented. “Does this line up?” asked Michonne, hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he looked at what Andy had drawn out.

He frowned, lifting the sheets of paper. “No, this is … this is one of their outposts. With the satellites, I’m guessing?” he asked, glancing up at Andy, the maps still in Ethan’s hands.

Andy nodded. “You mean there’s more of them?”

“Loads more. I did say they have outposts. You really thought it was just that place? See,” he pulled a fresh piece of paper out, grabbing the pen from Andy, “the place where I was with the Saviors, it was a big building, like a factory, I s’pose They called it the Sanctuary. But, if we’re lucky, Negan could be at _this_ outpost that you drop your supplies off to. He does some routine checks on people in person, especially the people he likes. He might like some of these guys here, or some of the women, if there’s any there.”

He looked up at the adults. “If you take down this post, you’ve gotta be prepared for more Saviors to come. These aren’t the last ones, they can’t be, there’s too many to just be in this single outpost.” Ethan kept a steady gaze on Rick. “There’s more Saviors than us and the Hilltop combined, and that’s in this outpost _and_ the factory. If we’re committing to this, that’s a lot of lives we’re taking. If we’re doing this, then there’s no turning back if you just take out the satellite post.”

Rick didn’t look pleased. “How many outposts do they have?” he asked. “We gotta know, Ethan,”

The boy put a hand through his hair, it’d gotten longer, sticking up in odd places. “I dunno … ten, maybe? There could be more, there could be less. Negan never said anything about the outposts around me much.”

The next day, they were going out to the Savior post. Ethan wasn’t going. He couldn’t do it. He knew that he’d mess up and get them all killed, so he stayed behind with everyone else. Though he supposed the tension could kill him just as much as the Saviors.

“Ethan,” Eric said quietly once the group had gone. Eric was standing a little behind him to the left. His voice sounded strange. “You know the most about the Saviors. Do you think Rick and the others will be OK?” He knew that the man was talking about Aaron, who had decided to go with them. Both of them hadn’t wanted him to go but understood that he was doing it for them. Not just for Eric, but for Ethan too. It was terrifying to think that Aaron would put himself in danger for Ethan.

“That depends on who they kill.”

For the first time in years, Ethan properly – _seriously_ – prayed, prayed for Aaron to come back safe, just as much as Daryl and the others.

 

* * *

 

 

The day felt like it dragged on, and Ethan couldn’t do anything about it, felt like things were going to go south. All he could do was sit with Eric in the living room on the couch, trying not to worry over the people Ethan found he called friends and family.

It was weird without Aaron there. The man was like the heart of their home, always managing to cheer things up and make it feel right. Without him there, it felt wrong. Ethan could barely believe that things had progressed that much during his time in Alexandria. He didn’t quite understand how it had all happened; he’d been on his own out there, and now he was in there, worrying over some people he had once never known nor cared for. These people had found a way into his heart in a way he had never thought possible, not after everything he had been through. And yet there he was, worrying over them.

He wondered if he cared for them as much as he cared for his brother. There was a thought in the back of his mind, wondering if it ever came down to it, who he’d choose to keep safe. If Negan made him choose between Eli and these people, he knew he’d be a disappointment to one party. Ethan tried not to think about it, not sure why he’d started thinking about it. Maybe Negan just had that effect on him, turning him into a worse form of himself.

Eric didn’t say anything to him as they stayed in their places on the sofa. There was a book in Ethan’s lap, but he couldn’t get the words to sink in. He felt so on edge, knowing that the others were out there, and he didn’t want to think about the fact that everything could go wrong and the people he cared about could so easily die out there. He was worried about each of them. After all the planning to take down just this one base, he wasn’t looking forward to the repercussions of what was going to happen. He knew that the repercussions were inevitable, Ethan was just worried as to how bad they’d be.

“You should invite Carl and Judith around,” said Eric, voice only just getting picked up on Ethan’s aids. “The silence is killing me,” he said. Ethan nodded, peeling himself from Eric’s side and left the house, wondering if he should’ve really left the man alone. But the silence was driving both of them insane, and maybe it was doing the same to Carl and Judith. Ethan needed company.

It didn’t take him long to find Carl and Judith, both of whom were in Rick’s house, all alone. He knocked before opening the door and entered, finding them in the living room together, Judith playing with a toy. “Hey,” he said, voice rough from the lack of use.

“Hey,” Carl replied. “What’s up?” he asked, frowning at him in a very Carl way.

He put his right hand on his left forearm, rubbing it as he looked to the ground. “Eric said I could invite you two around. It’s really quiet without Aaron,” he looked up at Carl, saw his gaze was heavy. “I hate when it’s quiet, feels like I don’t have my hearing aids in and it feels bad.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to come around, but it’d be appreciated.”

Carl got up, carrying Judith with him, babbling away incoherently. “Lead the way, pretty boy,” he said, then to Ethan’s surprise, Carl kissed his cheek.

Ethan’s stomach twisted itself up, the nerves in him going haywire. Trying not to blush, Ethan led them back to Aaron and Eric’s house, wondering when their house started to feel like home, and why Carl made Ethan feel a good kind of weird. Thinking felt weird and thinking about Carl weirder.

When they got there, Eric put everything in entertaining Judith, making her laugh and smile and giggle and do normal things. It made Ethan miss Eli all the more. There was a nudge against his ribs and he looked at Carl who was sat next to Ethan on the left. “What?”

“You’ve got a look on your face.” he said, words a little quiet over the sound of Judith’s laughter. “What’s wrong?”

“Miss my brother s’all,” he replied, pulling out the photo of Eli from his pocket, twisting it a little so that Carl could see it. “Little shit would’ve loved to see Judith. He’d be happy here,”

Carl nudged him again. “He _will_. You’ll find Eli,” he said, offering him a small smile. “I know you will. And he’ll love it here,”

He didn’t know how to reply to that; lowered his eyes and smiled a little bit, thumb tracing over Eli’s face in the small photograph.

“I’m gonna go and get her some food,” said Eric, catching the two teens’ attention. “She looks like she’s gonna get cranky if she doesn’t have some food.” He led Judith into the kitchen, taking a secure hold of her hand, helping her walk there.

There was a moment’s silence between the two before Ethan broke it. “You’re pretty boy,” he told him, pressing his lips together as he turned his head to look at Carl before quickly turning away again. He pressed his hands together, fingers slipping between the gaps and pressed into the backs of his hands.

“What?” asked Carl, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I call you that. You don’t call me it,” he said, wondering why the hell he was bringing it up, why it was making his heart beat faster, his palms feel sweaty and make his mouth dry. He glanced at Carl, feeling far too nervous, barely keeping eye contact with the other boy for more than half a second. He pressed his fingers together, trying to calm himself down. Ethan couldn’t quite understand why he was feeling and acting that way. His heart felt like it was in his throat.

But he could feel Carl pressed against him, arms pressed together, his breath drifting onto Ethan’s shoulder and neck, and he had to look back up at him. “Ethan?” he asked quietly, so quiet that he had to read his lips.

“Yeah?”

Carl ran his tongue over his lower lip. He looked as nervous as Ethan felt, but he kept his gaze on Ethan. They could hear Eric making Judith giggle in the kitchen, but they sounded millions of miles away.  “Show me what it’s like,” he said, knowing Ethan knew what he meant.

His heart leapt out of his chest, but he still leaned in at the same time as Carl, mouths pressing together in the simple movement. Ethan felt like he was going insane, his heart beating loudly in his chest, but he didn’t move away, shifting a little closer to the other boy. It wasn’t neat by any standards; their teeth clacked together once or twice, making them both wince a little. Neither appeared to have done something like this before. Ethan certainly hadn’t kissed anyone before. Ethan wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands but put a hand on Carl’s hip nervously and after a moment or two, he pulled away from him, eyes on Carl’s.

“Pretty boy,” said Carl, kissing Ethan again, pressing his hand to the boy’s cheek. Ethan echoed his words back to him.

 

* * *

 

 

Carl and Ethan were sharing a bed. It was a little weird, but neither of them said anything about it. They’d done it before, but this time felt different, and Ethan had a good guess as to why.

“Ethan?” he asked. Judith was asleep in her cot in Eric’s room and Eric was apparently asleep, but the two boys knew that the man would be up until Aaron came home.

“Hmm?”

He supposed he might’ve been able to hear Carl’s breathing if he’d had both his hearing aids in. They were close enough, and Carl was being loud enough for Ethan to just about hear him with the right one in. But only being able to hear properly in one ear was a little weird. “Are you OK?” asked Carl, eyebrow creasing to meet the other one hidden away by the bandage covering his missing eye. “Earlier, when we kissed. Was that alright?”

“Yeah, was alright,” he said, feeling nervous to be talking about it. “Was it OK to you?”

Carl smiled. “I think it’s better than kissing girls.” He reached for Ethan’s hand, pulling it close to his chest. “Are you OK with … this thing that’s between us?” His mouth twitched, and he sat up. Ethan sat up too, lighting a candle on the bedside table. “I just … I don’t know, but I do know what I want.”

This wasn’t a conversation Ethan ever thought he’d have, let alone with _Carl_. “What, so you want me to be your boyfriend?” Ethan asked.

“Yes.” Carl sounded so sure and confident, and all Ethan could do was smile because Carl knew that he was a boy, knew that he’d be his boyfriend if he wanted. “Do you want the same?”

Ethan couldn’t speak, but nodded, pulling Carl close enough so that he could rest his forehead against his. “Of course,” he said when he found his voice.

The two looked at each other for a moment longer before Ethan chuckled a little, and that set Carl off with his quiet laughter. “We should probably get some sleep,” Carl said after a moment.

“Don’t know if I can,” said Ethan, sobering up a little. He sighed, fingers going through Carl’s hair, shifting it from the bandage. “We’re starting something, and I don’t know if we’ll see it through to the end,” he admitted. “Dunno if I’ll be able to see it through. Negan will want my skin,”

Carl gave him a not-quite smile but was looking determined. “We will. You will. We’ll kill Negan,” he said, nodding before he got a little closer to Ethan again, mouth just barely touching his. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Just how I know you won’t let anything happen to me,”

“I know,” he replied before he moved a little closer to Carl so that the miniscule gap vanished. The two lost themselves in the moment, familiarising themselves with each other’s touch. It was soft and quiet and made Ethan feel safe to let his guard down and forget about what was happening out there in the world because what was important right there, _them_.

So naturally, Ethan had to ruin the moment by pulling away to yawn. “Am I boring you?” asked Carl, and Ethan could actually hear the smile in his voice. “C’mon, we should sleep,” he said, laying back down. Ethan rolled his eyes a little, but removed the only BTE and switched it off, lying beside Carl, blowing out the candle.

“‘M hogging the blankets, fuck you,” he said, pulling them over his body, curling up beside Carl, eyes shut. He peeped through one to grin at Carl, who pulled them over him so that they shared the blankets; it resulted in elbows and knees knocking together and accidentally hitting some ribs, but soon they were comfortable.

Ethan tried not to think about how Carl could probably feel the weight on his chest – after all, Carl ended up partly on top of him, not that Ethan minded all that much. Just … his chest existed in a way he didn’t like. Maybe Carl got that Ethan was feeling weird, because he shifted off him a little more and kissed his cheek and said something. His words were muffled, but they were enough to calm him into sleep, arm slipping around Carl.

 

* * *

 

 

The others came back after a long night and day. Most of which, Carl and Judith had spent with Eric and Ethan. Judith seemed to take to Ethan, letting him turn her upside down and mess with his hair when she looked like she was going to cry. Carl had looked surprised that he had found ways to calm her down and make her smile and laugh in ways that he hadn’t figured out. Ethan tried not to think about how many of the things he did with Judith were what he did with Eli. But now they were back. A little tattered and bruised, and some a bit bloody, but they were back.

Eric had near enough ran to greet Aaron, hugging him tightly. To Ethan’s surprise, Aaron had come and hugged him too, which had been more than welcome. “What happened?” he asked once he’d pulled away from him.

“We killed them all, and I think we killed Negan. There was a guy, claimed himself to be Negan and Rick shot him,” said Aaron, looking over at the man. “We’re OK,” he said, nodding his head.

But something made Ethan think otherwise. He didn’t know when or how, but the Saviors would find them, would track them down and make them pay. They were going to fucking kill them. So Ethan knew they had to kill all of them first. And maybe he’d find Eli along the way.

 _But_ he didn’t want to think about this; killing the Saviors, the possible impending doom that was threatening them. All he wanted to really think about was his life with Aaron and Eric. Fuck man, it was weird to think that he had something of a _domestic_ life that really was just domestic, and he didn’t have to be scared of them or worry that they’d snap at him whenever he’d do something wrong. They never folded clothes angrily in his direction, never yelled when he didn’t wash things up or left a sock in a corner when they’d put all their dirty clothes in the washing machine.

Just … Aaron and Eric, man. Ethan loved them.

It terrified Ethan how much the two men meant to him, how quickly they had found a spot in his heart just for the two of them. They were home and it was safe with them and it was even happy with them. They understood him in a way that others wouldn’t; maybe it was because they’d seen him out looking for Eli first, had followed him and tried to recruit him first.

If things settled and they got rid of all the Saviors, Ethan thought that maybe the three of them and Eli could be something more than what they already were. Ethan even hoped for it, wished it, even though he knew better than to get his hopes up for something so fantastical. He had to be realistic, especially now that they’d attacked the Saviors.

Even though his mind was hopeful and near enough whimsical, his gut told him that things weren’t going to turn out as great as thought. He couldn’t shake the fear inside him, or how his heart kept leaping oddly, skipping beats whenever it seemed to feel like it. As much as he knew whatever happiness they had would soon die, he wished it’d last for ever. He wanted it to.

Aaron had gotten into the shower not too long after they’d returned home, and Eric had gone upstairs, and Ethan didn’t need telling that they’d gotten into the shower together like the romantic saps they were. He felt his mouth tug upwards minutely. They deserved to be happy. He ran a hand over his face, fingers gripping his jaw a little tighter as he looked around the living room, trying to memorise each little part of it. This was his first home; the one he always wanted to return to.

Ethan blinked suddenly and in quick succession, turning his gaze towards the window as his hand came back up to wipe at his eyes, trying to get rid of the hot stinging there. He breathed in sharply, shaking his head at how emotional he had become, wondering just how he’d managed it. Of course he’d start crying over something like that.

But it was – his home.

Panic settled in his chest, sudden and too big for him to understand. He got up and nearly raced out of the house and slipped through the gate, his pace fast, nearly running out of the safe haven. He didn’t hear the people on the wall, if they did say anything. He needed to get out of there, even for a minute, or an hour, or even a day.

He wasn’t sure how far he’d walked, or how long it had taken him to get there, but now he’d found a large tree and had climbed it to as high as the branches would take him whilst supporting his weight. Ethan’s back was pressed to the bark of the tree and he tried to calm his breathing because he could hear it through his broken ears and BTEs. If he could hear it, then he needed to be quiet. He couldn’t make noise outside. Not when the Saviors could be watching, not when the walkers were around every fucking corner of the planet.

“Kid?” someone asked from below and Ethan bit back a curse. Of course Daryl fucking saw him practically sprint out of Alexandria. “Fuck’re yeh doin’ up there?”

Ethan wasn’t sure he could answer that, wasn’t sure his voice would work the way it was supposed to. “Get down,” the man said, and Ethan did as he was told, though took his time with it, trying to make sure his shaking limbs didn’t send him off the tree and break his back. Ethan landed lightly on his feet, making sure not to screw up his ankles as he brushed himself off. “Kid,” said Daryl, hand reaching out to rest on Ethan’s shoulder. “Yer not lookin’ good,”

“Neither would you if you couldn’t stop feeling so anxious you feel like you’re about to throw up,” he replied, trying to make a joke of it, but his tone didn’t quite make it work.

He couldn’t look at Daryl. If he did, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Maybe he’d explode or maybe even implode. Anything was possible in that moment.

“Hey, yer alright,” Daryl started, reaching over to grasp Ethan’s shoulder. “Man, I get it. We started somethin’ an’ we’re gonna finish it. Yer not gonna get hurt. I ain’ lettin’ yeh get hurt.”

Ethan felt his shoulders shake and Daryl did too. “What’re you, my dad?” he asked, shifting his weight on his feet as he kept his gaze to the forest floor.

“I’d be proud teh be,” he said, and Ethan looked up at him in shock. “If yeh were my son, I’d be proud.” To Ethan’s surprise, Daryl pulled him close to him and gave him a quick, but well-meaning and caring hug. He responded to the hug with as much enthusiasm as Daryl gave, blinking rapidly as the stinging got stronger in his eyes.

They pulled away and looked at each other. “Let’s be real, at this point, you and Aaron and Eric are basically my dads,” he said, laughing a little wetly, wiping at the corners of his eyes. Daryl grunted out a laugh, nodding his head before he led Ethan back into Alexandria.


	11. World's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW warning because this chapter is a little … intense. There's transphobic slurs and general assholery. It's also a little grim, but you'll find out why soon enough. There's also a part that I considered not doing, but I kept it in because I'm cliché and we need more angst.  
> Enjoy!

Ethan was up early when shit started to go down.

He’d been on watch since four, and it’d been a few hours since then. He didn’t feel tired, even though his body ached, and he wanted to relax in bed. He wished that was how his day could’ve gone. He’d been tapping his knife against his thigh, feeling something weird in him that he associated with his anxiety. He felt like he couldn’t keep still. His chest hurt, and he clenched his jaw to try and suppress what he was feeling. The sound of a motorcycle being gunned to life pulled him out of his watchful gaze and he turned sharply on his heel just in time to see Daryl zoom out of the gates of Alexandria.

“ _Fuck!_ ” he hissed, speeding over to the ladder, zipping down it quickly, ignoring whatever Scott was saying from his spot on the post. Ethan’s ankles hurt a little on the impact, but he was already running. “What the fuck is he doing?” he asked, following Maggie, Michonne and Glenn as they got to the van, the latter two clambering inside. Something had been eating away at Daryl, and it seemed to have finally made him lash out.

“You shouldn’t come with us,” Michonne began, but Ethan gave her a sharp look as he opened the side door of the van and got in. He was not going to argue his point further than necessary. Glenn started up the van and got it to move a little but then Abraham appeared in front of it. Ethan couldn’t really hear what he was saying, his concentration on Michonne.

“He’s gonna get himself killed, I’m not gonna stay behind and let it happen.”

Rosita came up to the van too from where she’d been at the gate. “We should keep numbers here,” Glenn started when she came up to the passenger’s door.

“I know where Daryl’s going.” she replied harshly, which had been enough for them to let her enter, sitting inside the van with Ethan opposite her. Barely two seconds later, they’d gone speeding after Daryl.

Ethan had barely considered his actions; his brain had gone wild. He needed to see if Daryl was OK, that he wasn’t going to do something stupid or get himself killed. As they continued to follow the path Daryl must’ve taken (from Rosita’s instructions), Ethan was left to his thoughts.

He’d done this without thinking. He’d gone with them because he cared about Daryl. He’d do the same if it was Aaron, Eric, Enid or Carl – or anyone else. The people in Alexandria had quickly become important to him, and he knew it’d been a mistake. Being Carl’s _boyfriend_ should have felt like a mistake too. But he couldn’t bring himself to think of it like that. He didn’t understand why he and Carl had done something so monumental; letting themselves get so close to each other. If – _when_ – they lost each other, it’d just make things so much harder for them both.

“Ethan,” said Rosita. He looked up at her. “You look like shit. Can you do this?”

She was angry and hurt and it was in her face. “Yes. Gotta do it, right?”

His answer looked like it appeased her, for now, as she turned her gaze back and told Glenn when to stop. He didn’t take the way she said it personally. She had a lot of shit going on in her personal life.

They eventually pulled over on some train tracks and clambered out, looking around, trying to find a way to see where Daryl had gone. Rosita said something, but she was just out of his hearing range with how quiet she’d spoken. Ethan looked around, his chest feeling tight and heavy. His grip on his knife tightened and he put his gun in its holster on his thigh as he walked closer to the treeline. His eyes narrowed as he saw some branches with leaves looking different. They’d been manually pulled over.

He got closer to them and lifted them up, knife ready just in case. But it was Daryl’s bike. He turned his head back to the others. “Well, he ain’t as dumb as he could be,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, letting the branches fall back down, covering the bike once more. Narrowing his eyes again, he looked at the nearby forest ground. “There,” he said, pointing to the tracks that were left by a human.

“You got his tracks?” asked Michonne, squinting to the floor.

“Yeah. My hearing might be shit but my eyesight is fantastic,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Rosita looked different, like she was mourning, and Ethan supposed she was. This was where Denise had died. Rosita and Glenn spoke a little, something about Dwight, and just the name made Ethan feel tense. If Dwight was brought into this, and he’d killed someone, then that meant that everything had been polarised for the man. Ethan looked at Glenn who nodded, and Ethan led the way.

It felt like his senses had been dialled up to eleven – apart from his hearing. “This is the way Dwight went,” said Rosita. “He’s definitely trying to track him.”

“He’s not doing too bad. Their tracks are overlapping a little,” said Ethan, leading them further into the forest. They tried not to walk too slowly, but not too loudly either. Something felt wrong about being out there. Ethan wasn’t sure as to what was wrong, but it was making him feel sick.

The bolt landed in the tree right beside Ethan’s face and he bit back the angry curse as he yanked it out. “Thanks, man,” he said, rolling his eyes as he led the others to where Daryl was standing. Either Daryl intentionally missed, or his aim was off. The former was far more likely; Daryl had an amazing aim.

“Yeh shouldn’t’ve come,” the man snapped, snatching the bolt from Ethan’s grip angrily. He stepped back into Rosita accidentally, surprised and almost scared of Daryl.

“You shouldn’t have left,” retorted Michonne as they followed Daryl who was trying to walk away.

The man turned back to look at the four of them and Ethan caught a glimpse of hurt and sadness in his face before he tried to force it away. It surprised Ethan to see Daryl’s emotions on show so easily. “When I split off from Sasha and Abraham, he was out there in the woods in that burnt out forest with them girls – put a gun to my head, tied me up!” he snapped, pointing his finger to his head at the mention of the gun, shifting his weight on his feet as he looked at them. “I even tried to help ‘im.” He moved to continue walking without them, but they didn’t want to leave him alone out in the woods.

“So you think it’s your fault,” said Ethan, moving closer to Daryl. He turned back around again, getting close to Ethan, levelling their gaze.

“I know it is,” he replied. “I’m gonna go do what I should’ve done before.”

“For her? She’s gone, man. You’re doing this for you,” said Glenn, walking closer to Daryl who kept trying to walk away from them. Ethan figured that he’d feel the same way if he’d gone through what Daryl had been through; what he _felt_.

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit.” Ethan was tempted to call bullshit on that.

Glenn wasn’t going to give up that easily. He jogged up to him, trying his best to persuade the man. “Daryl, we need to get back there and figure this out from home. _Our_ home. We need you, and everyone back there needs us right now. I-i-it’s gonna go wrong out here,”

“We’ll square it. I will,” said Michonne, walking closer to Daryl, looking sincere, her promise written in her expression. “I promise you. Just come back,”

Daryl looked at Glenn, then shook his head minutely. “I can’t.”

“Please,” Ethan said, stepping closer to the man. “Glenn’s right, something is gonna get fucked up if we stay out here, and we gotta go back. I can show you into the Sanctuary and help you kill Dwight myself – I remember where he used to live there.” Which was a half lie. He _vaguely_ remembered which corridor Dwight’s home was. But Daryl didn’t need to know that, not yet anyway.

Ethan had hoped that had been enough to persuade Daryl, but the man just gave him a tight-lipped smile and shook his head. “Can’t ask yeh to do that,” he said, turning on his heel again, and they didn’t walk after him.

Rosita followed after Daryl, and Ethan looked between Michonne and Glenn. “Can you come back?” Michonne asked Ethan, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Come back with us,”

He looked over his shoulder at the retreating figures of Rosita and Daryl and thought he might burst into tears. “Yeah. No point staying out here and getting myself killed,” he said, shrugging the shoulder Michonne wasn’t touching. She looked like she understood the pain he was going through, and then led him away, both of them trailing behind Glenn.

The three walked into a sort of clearing before Glenn started talking. “The thing is, I was meant to be back in Alexandria right now.” he said, and Michonne said something but Ethan didn’t catch what she’d said, but he caught the last word of her sentence: dead.

Glenn said something about hoping not, and Ethan was just confused. His fingers touched his hearing aids, increasing the volume intake, hoping he’d be able to catch whatever they were saying. “We need them alive, we need to find out more.”

“Yeah, we do,” said Michonne. They slowed to a stop by some weird marsh-looking thing that had water in. It didn’t look too pretty.

“We just got stuck with each other. We were lucky. We figured it all out together, it felt like we did, after everything we did, we …” he shook his head. “well it’s not what we thought it was, the Hilltop, the Saviors, it’s bigger.”

And then Ethan heard the Savior whistle and pulled out his gun. Only to find that they’d been surrounded.

“So much for my fantastic eyesight,” he muttered, lowering his gun as Dwight stepped into view. His face was burned on one side and he had a gun raised. He looked like he only just recognised who Ethan was.

“Hi,” he said, and Ethan felt his stomach drop.

 

* * *

 

 

Glenn looked at Ethan as the Saviors approached them. “Ethan, I –”

Someone hit him over the head as a pair of hands grabbed Ethan’s arms and pulled them back. He groaned, adjusting his footing as he looked up at Dwight. He walked over to the three. He came to a stop and grinned down at Ethan.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, drawling out the words. “What’s he call you?”

Ethan clenched his jaw again. “Ethan,”

If Dwight was surprised, he didn’t really show it. “ _Ethan_ ,” he said, elongating each syllable. “Doesn’t suit you.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” he replied, and then one of the other Saviors came and punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of Ethan. He groaned, the urge to heave up the contents in his stomach.

“Yeah, this isn’t going to go well, for any of you,” said Dwight. He looked at the three, all of them at a disadvantage. They all had their hands behind their backs, and if they were to try to break free, they’d most likely break their wrists trying. “You’re gonna come with us, and we’re gonna wait for that hick Daryl to come and find us. But we’re gonna have the advantage,”

Ethan wished he’d gone with Daryl and Rosita. He would’ve been able to persuade them to go home, and they would’ve realised that the Saviors were trying to flank them. They could’ve done something. Now they had to endure everything.

But Dwight was still telling them what was going to happen. “You’re gonna meet the big man, and you’re gonna have fun, _Ethan_ especially. I hope you’re excited, because you’re in for one helluva night.” He nodded his head and the men holding the three dragged them backwards. Ethan struggled to get his footing. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, holding up his free hand. He gestured with it and Ethan got pulled closer.

He knew what was going to happen. Of course he did, because Dwight knew, and he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it. Once Ethan was pulled close enough, the man pulled his BTEs off and pocketed them. He grinned at the boy before he nodded to the people behind them.

They were dragged away.

One of them took Ethan’s flannel, and another took some of Michonne’s dreadlocks. The woman didn’t let them see her pain at the action, even though Ethan knew it must’ve caused some intense pain. Ethan didn’t like this. Why were they taking his flannel and her hair? Were they to bait Daryl? Or, if Ethan’s bad luck continued to screw him over, it’d be others from Alexandria.

Their hands had been tied behind their backs and they’d been gagged the moment they’d been brought to the makeshift camp. All they could do was wait. Ethan leaned into Michonne’s side, his face hurting and his head pounding. His knee felt sore and he wished he’d stayed in bed.

All he could do was stare out into the open forest, hope that his other senses would compensate for the lack of his hearing. And then he saw a faint rustle of some leaves in the not too far distance. His stomach did an awful flip and he felt like he was going to throw up.

He spotted Daryl and Rosita, straight ahead of him. Daryl had been trying to catch his eye and he shook his head as little as possible, not wanting to draw the attention from the other Saviors. His whole body felt like it shrivelled in on itself when he spotted Dwight. Ethan felt his eyes widen and he shook his head, then nodded towards where Dwight was, and he could feel Michonne and Glenn doing the same thing on either side of him.

Even though he was mostly deaf, he still heard the gunshot.

His throat felt raw when he saw Daryl collapse.

The three watched as Rosita was pulled to sit across from them as Dwight dragged Daryl into their small clearing. Dwight looked at Ethan, grinning. He crouched behind him and Ethan felt his bindings come loose on his wrists. He’d just felt the coolness of the blade whizz past his skin. A hand grabbed some of Ethan’s hair and pulled his head back, neck exposed to the Saviors.

“You know what to do.” Ethan was pushed forwards, and he caught himself before his face connected to the forest ground. He turned around and caught the terrible medical supplies and looked back to Daryl.

He barely had to look at Daryl to know that the man knew he’d fucked up. “Let me see your wound,” he said quietly, the words not reaching his ears. “I can’t hear you, so just nod or whatever. But we can’t let you bleed out,” he told him, then reached out to tug off Daryl’s jacket, helping him take off part of the long-sleeved clothing.

But then Dwight ripped the sleeves off, and Ethan saw Daryl bite back the scream. Ethan held back the sigh before he shifted the material away from the wound. The smell of blood was strong and almost overwhelming, but he wiped at it, trying to clean it as best he could. He checked and saw there was no exit wound. Ethan pulled out the tweezers and grimaced at Daryl. He simply nodded.

Ethan tried to make quick work of it but trying to locate and pull out the bullet was a lot harder than when he’d had to do it to himself. But he managed it. The bullet hadn’t fragmented so it was easier to get it out. He could hear Daryl groaning – maybe even screaming in pain – but that was the least of Ethan’s worries. He needed that bullet out. Once it was, Ethan put pressure on it, one hand on Daryl’s shoulder blade as the other pressed against the wound. The blood stained Ethan’s fingers, dripped down the back of his hand, and he tried not to think about it. He wasn’t going to lose Daryl. He wasn’t.

They were so fucked.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan Dolori was terrified. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

They were bundled away into a van, driving away to somewhere unknown. He thought about Aaron and Eric, how the two had taken him in and treated him as an equal. Now he might never see them again. They’d taken some of Daryl’s bolts and might’ve even taken his jacket, but Ethan couldn’t remember what they’d taken any more.

Beside him, Daryl was bleeding; opposite, Rosita, Michonne and Glenn were no longer gagged or bound. Ethan had been allowed to bandage up Daryl’s gunshot wound, but even he had never tried to fix up a close gunshot wound before. His hands were still stained with Daryl’s blood, which he’d placed in his lap. Daryl held onto his hands, the blood still trickling down his arm even though Ethan had tried his best.

He thought of Enid, how she had been his first friend, the way that they spoke to each other and understood what was in each other’s minds. How they both just _got_ one another on a different level, how she had been someone he hadn’t trusted, to someone that he trusted with his life, with the knowledge of Eli.

Tears dripped down his face as he thought about everything, about their survival chances. Daryl groaned when the van went over a large bump in the road, and Ethan looked at him, the muffled weird silence terrifying. If Daryl had made any noise, it must’ve been loud.

Fuck, he hated Dwight so much.

Ethan thought about Carl, wondering if he’d ever see him again. He didn’t think so. His heart felt weird thinking about him, thinking about how he’d probably die tonight before he got any chance to tell him the things he wanted to say. He wanted to see him again and call him pretty boy again, just to see the way his eyes shone, and his mouth curl up into that _smile_.

The van came to a stop. From what Ethan could see, the sky was getting dark, sunset, but there were lights on in different spots, like floodlights. Just what the Saviors and Negan did best – dramatic reveals.

He tried not to think about today having the greatest possibility of being his last day on earth. His hands felt cold, the drying blood even colder, but still stickier.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been in there, but when he heard the loud whistling of the hundreds of Saviors, he knew that there were some people outside, good people. And now it was time for someone to die.

And then the doors opened, and they were all yanked out of the van. Ethan stumbled, leg bending at an odd angle as he tried to catch his footing. He looked up and saw it was Dwight who had pulled him out. His teeth sunk into his lip, fury bubbling up inside him. The prick still had his BTEs. Ethan looked around as he was forced to his knees. He breathed in deeply as he got his bearings, seeing other people there that he recognised.

They were all in a long row, and he could see Abraham beside Michonne, and on his other side there were Maggie, Rick, Sasha, Aaron, Carl and Eugene. What the hell were they doing here? Daryl had been placed beside Michonne, the blanket still on his shoulders. Beside him was Rosita, who wasn’t looking happy. Glenn was beside her, and on Ethan’s left. He kept close to Ethan, looking like he wanted to keep him close to his side, but with the people there, he didn’t want to risk it.

Someone was talking, and Ethan looked up and saw one of the men that terrified him the most: Negan.

He said something as he walked, having come from the RV that was from Alexandria. He kept talking, looking at them all, but Ethan couldn’t hear a word of what he was saying. He pointed to some of them and Simon pointed his gun at Rick. It was about who was the leader, who needed to see things set right off the bat. He moved along the line, talking, keeping his eyes on Rick, swinging the bat. He kept talking, getting closer to Ethan, but he didn’t seem to take into account that he was down on his knees with the rest of them. From where Ethan was, he could see the fear in Rick’s eyes.

Carl simply stared at him, which was more than what Ethan thought he’d do himself in that situation.

He moved closer to Maggie and Glenn shifted from beside Ethan, getting to his feet to possibly attack Negan, yelling at him incoherently. But Ethan was quick to jump to his feet and grab him and yank him back down, both of them landing roughly, nearly landing on their backs. “Don’t,” he said sternly, not hearing his voice as he tightened his grip on Glenn's arm. His breath was visible in the cold night air. He kept his grip on Glenn’s shoulder, refusing to let go, shaking his head minutely as he turned his eyes up towards Negan.

“Alright, listen, don’t any of you do that again, with your stupid shit,” he said, pointing at Glenn with Lucille. “I will shut that shit down, _no exceptions_. First one’s free, it’s an emotional moment,” he waved his hands around a little, then pointed to Maggie. “I get it.” He moved back in front of Rick. “Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realise you don’t know shit.” He smiled, then looked over at Carl, coming to the correct conclusion about Rick being Carl’s father.

He knelt down a little and held out the bat, Lucille, in front of Rick’s face, letting him see the barbed wire on the baseball bat. He walked along until he was beside Carl and he knelt in front of him, amusement on Negan’s face before he stood up.

Negan turned around caught sight of Ethan and let out a laugh loud enough for him to hear. He pressed a hand to his chest, swinging the bat around, and tilting backwards before he started talking to someone behind Ethan, and then something was shoved into his ears. He gripped them, recognised them as his BTEs and put them on properly, turning them on.

“Holy _shit_! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Negan asked, swinging the bat again before he came and crouched in front of Ethan. He tried to keep his body from shaking. “Bet you’re glad you get to hear my voice again,”

He clenched his jaw. “Not the words I’d use,” he said voice cold and even, and Negan laughed again, gloved hand going over his beard.

“Damn, you’ve changed,” he said, grabbing Ethan’s hair, lifting his head up, neck exposed. “You look like a boy now, don’t you? Your daddy ain’t gonna be happy about that, is he?”

Ethan continued to stare at Negan, refusing to turn his gaze away. “Y’know, your mommy went looking for you and your brother. She’s a lot smarter than you, little Minnie Mouse that she is. But we tracked her. It took us some time, kiddo, but we found her. And she got a pretty little iron just like D here,” he said, grinning at Ethan. “But, I gotta ask you, girl-boy, because it’s fucking killing me: what’s your name now?” Negan sounded like a kid on Christmas Day.

“Ethan.”

Negan nodded his head, grip tightening on his hair before he pushed Ethan’s head to the ground roughly, nearly knocking his hearing aids out. He had to push his hands out to break his fall, sitting back up on his knees. “Ethan,” he said slowly, trying out the name. “E-than. Ethan Ethan Ethan!” He didn’t like the way the man said his name. “Suits you,” he said with a nod. “Do you think your daddy’ll like it?”

He shook his head, chest feeling like it was going to collapse. “Yeah, me neither. I ain’t gonna let him hurt you, much. I’m a nice guy like that,” said Negan. “But, I gotta tell you, these people you’re with? They’re bad fucking news. Killed a lot of my fucking men, and they need to see something, don’t they?”

Ethan knew he was going to die.

“Which is why, I got my little Minnie Mouse with us. Prime _example_!”

His breathing got rugged. “N-no,” he said, the tears almost instantly blinding his vision as he shook his head, body beginning to shake. “No!”

From the opposite side of the clearing, Min-seo appeared. Half of her face was scarred in burns, but her eyes were only on Ethan. “My son,” she said, eyes wide and she looked so happy and so scared.

“ _Omma_ ,” he said brokenly, unable to believe that she was really there in front of him, out of arm’s reach but still alive. He could feel the tears on his face as he felt his body curl up on itself, hands on the ground.

Negan grinned, looking at Ethan. “Surprise! Family reunion. I wish we had your brother with us, but he’s probably deader than the fucking dead. If I’d brought your daddy along, fuck knows what he’d have done to you if he saw you right now.” But then he turned to look at the rest of the group, turning so suddenly serious.

All Ethan could do was stare at his mother, trying to remember every part of her face, burnt and all. She was doing the same. He was aware of the shouting between Rick and Negan. He said something about ordering. But Min-seo was signing to him, over and over again and all Ethan could do was sign it back, the letters subtle from years’ long practice.

“First, we have to make little Ethan Dolori see what his mistakes make,” he said, walking backwards towards Min-seo, swinging Lucille again. It was almost hilarious that Negan knew he’d taken his mother’s name and not his father’s.

Ethan felt his entire body convulse. “No, no – do it to me instead! She doesn’t have to –” Negan turned around to look at Ethan with a glare so fierce it scared him into silence.

“If you look away, I’ll take your hearing aids and rip your eyes out myself!” he said, then turned around and slammed Lucille into Min-seo’s head.

Ethan could barely react. His jaw slackened, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. It felt like he could feel the hit reverberate in his bones as time felt like it slowed down, just to taunt Ethan. Min-seo planted her hands on the ground, the struggling noises she made sure to haunt Ethan until he died, and she lifted her head to look at him. “ _M-my-my ha-and-some s-on_ ,” she managed to say, choking on her own blood, the words just coherent enough for him to understand, in their native tongue. Negan took another swing at her and then it felt like time had sped back up and everything was hyperreal – and then Ethan screamed.

Glenn pulled Ethan to his chest, putting his hand on his face as he tried to keep Ethan as far away as possible. He didn’t force Ethan to look away, worried of Negan going through with his promise. Ethan put his bloodstained hands to his mouth, unable to believe what had just happened.

The man didn’t stop hitting her in the head until she was sure dead. Ethan felt sick, choking on his sobs and breaths as he couldn’t look away from what remained of his mother. His breathing was beyond ragged and he couldn’t understand anything, couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

He thought that maybe his mother had long since died, but now he’d just witnessed it. The only thing he could hear was his sobs and the sickening crunch of the bat on broken bones and flesh. Every time he blinked, he thought that it’d go away and that it was just a bad dream, but every time it just got worse and worse.

It felt like an eternity later until Negan did stop. He straightened up, grunting as he turned to look at Ethan. “Oh, don’t baby the boy!” he said, sounding amused. He nodded to someone behind the two, and someone yanked Ethan back out of Glenn’s grip. Ethan just managed to put his hand to the ground. He would not fall in front of Negan.

Negan walked over to Ethan once more, swinging the bloodied bat. The blood landed on his face and he barely reacted, simply blinking a little. Negan knelt in front of him again, holding out the bat. “Look at it,” he said. Ethan looked up at Negan before he did as he was told, the blood shining from the floodlights as the feeling of numbness set in. Negan twisted the bat, letting him see all the bits from Min-seo’s head. “Where’s Eli? I always liked that little psychopath. Is he back home? Back in _Alexandria_?”

Ethan didn’t know how much dread his body and mind would take. “What?” he asked, looking back up at Negan. “You fucking stole him from me.” he snapped, tears on his cheeks.

The look on Negan’s face made Ethan’s heart stop. “I gotta say, Ethie, you taught Eli well,” he said, leaning against Lucille. “We had him for two, maybe three weeks. But he slipped away, ran off with that pretty little knife you gave him. The one with your names on, right? The one that already had the letter E engraved on the blade.” Ethan felt his body shake again. “Your brother is long fucking gone. And if that little psycho isn’t with you, I gotta tell ya, he’s fucking dead.”

He shut his eyes, shaking his head, refusing to believe what Negan was telling him. “You’re a lying sack of _shit_ ,”

Negan’s face contorted in anger, and then the hand that wasn’t gloved swung through the air, hitting Ethan’s cheek with such force it knocked him over. He groaned, searching for the hearing aid that had come off his ear from the impact. Negan held it out in front of him in a mocking fashion. “Say it.”

“May I have it, please?” he asked, blinking back the tears as he forced himself to sit back up, body shaking so hard it made everything difficult.

“Who are you?” asked Negan, that sly grin on his face. Ethan didn’t want to say it.

“Negan.”

He gave it back, dropping it into Ethan’s lap. Ethan put it back in, trying so hard not to cry. He tried to ignore the feeling of manipulation, the familiar sense of being made to do as someone else wanted. Just saying it made him feel sick because he wasn’t part of the Saviors and he would never be _Negan_.

“Still, I gotta pick someone to pay for what you fuckers did,” he said to the rest of the group, doing the Savior whistle, walking along, looking for the person he was to pick. “Because we all know Minnie Mouse’s fucking exit was to pay for her shitty fucking decisions.” Negan drawled, turning on his heel to wink at Ethan.

Shit.

He came to a stop. “I simply cannot decide!” he exclaimed, always moving around, not stopping. He was making sure they all knew he was in charge and what he said _went_.

And then Negan turned around, arms held out a little. “I got an idea,” he said. He laughed as he walked closer, always moving Lucille. They all had to know what was coming now. He held it up to Rick’s face. “Eenie,” he began, and Ethan clenched his fists, eyes going over the faces of everyone there.

“Meenie,”

He continued, pointing the bat at their faces, skipping some of the people knelt in the line. “Minie … moe … catch … a tiger … by … his toe … if … he hollers … let him go … my mother … taught me … to pick … the very best one …”

Ethan was so scared; more than twice the bat had been in his face during this drag out. “And you … are …” He watched as Negan held the bat in his arms, looking at Rick before he moved forwards, towards Abraham “… it.”

The realisation in Abraham’s face was horrifying to see. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and _then_ we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that!” he said, then slammed it on Abraham’s head. Someone screamed. “Oh, damn, look at that. Taking it like a champ!”

Abraham forced himself to his knees again, staring up at Negan angrily. “Suck … my … nuts,” he said, and Negan hit him again and he didn’t get back up. Negan didn’t stop, hitting his head again and again.

He paused for breath, laughing. “Did you hear that? He said suck my nuts!” and then he resumed it, not stopping. Ethan could see Sasha crying, and on the other side, Rosita looked numb. He felt it too.

“You guys, look at my dirty girl!” Ethan heard him say. All he could do was stare at the ground, breathing heavily.

He tried to make Rosita look at the bloodied Lucille, but then Daryl got up and punched him when he yelled at Rosita.

“Daryl, no!” yelled Ethan as some men ran forwards, holding him down. Negan wasn’t happy, saying how the shit Daryl just did didn’t fly around there. Daryl was dragged back into the line, but not before Dwight had aimed Daryl’s crossbow at his face, asking if he should kill him.

Then Ethan realised what just happened. He let out a gasp and turned to look away, mouth agape. He wasn’t ready. “That’s not how it works. Now I already told you people first one’s free. Then what did I say? That I’d shut that shit down. No exceptions!” He was getting closer to Ethan and Glenn. He looked at Glenn, terrified. “Now I don’t know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been fucking dealing with, but I’m a man of my motherfucking word. First impression’s important. I need you to _know_ me.” he told them. “So … back to it!” He turned around, and then Ethan realised who the bat was really aimed at –

And Glenn pushed him out of the way. “NO!” he screamed, trying to sit himself up, chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at Glenn who had near enough collapsed on him from the two hits to the head. Maggie screamed too, as Glenn pushed himself back up. Ethan thought the man had died on him.

Glenn was trying to speak, and Ethan just heard him say Maggie’s name. Negan grinned, holding Lucille behind him as he bent over to look at Glenn. “Buddy, you still there? I just don’t know, it seems like you’re trying to speak but you just took a hell of a hit!”

The man was still trying to speak to his wife. “I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just _popped out_! And it is gross as shit!”

Whatever Glenn managed to say, Ethan hadn’t been able to understand.

“Oh, hell, I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am.” Negan looked almost sorry, like he actually meant it, but Ethan could see right through it. “But I did say it – no exceptions!” And then he turned back and smashed Glenn’s head in and would not stop.

Ethan couldn’t stop staring as the bat hit the remains of Glenn’s head, splattering his side and face. How could he sacrifice his life for Ethan’s? The man had had a life ahead of him, a baby to be a father to. He watched as Glenn’s body twitched, the last of his nerves spasming from the sudden trauma to his head, or what remained of it.

Eventually, Negan stopped, but Ethan saw the piece of flesh caught on the barbed wire of the bat. He couldn’t hear what Negan was saying, or what Rick was saying too. It felt like he was trapped in a bubble and he was going to suffocate, the last thing he’d see would be Glenn’s remains. He could feel the stinging in the back of his eyes, the hotness dripping down from them, going down his cheeks.

Why did Glenn push Ethan out of the way?

He looked up in time to see Negan drag Rick away and into the RV, driving off into the distance, whatever had been said feel on his deaf, ringing ears despite the functioning BTEs he had on. The blood made its way down Ethan’s face, drying a path where they had been. Ethan could barely feel the tremors in his body, didn’t dare look up and see Maggie’s broken face. He could just hear her cries over the ringing in his ears. He felt sick, but with no food in his stomach, the shock too deep in his systems, he couldn’t even dry heave.

No-one said a word, the fear and shock settling in their systems.

“You’re Jason’s kid?” someone asked, standing in front of Ethan. When he didn’t respond, the man got angry and kicked him in the gut. He grunted, the breath taken from him as the hit knocked him onto his back. He saw that it was Simon. “Don’t make me repeat myself,”

He shut his eyes as he answered, “Yes.” he said, forcing himself into a sitting position once more, resting his arm on his bent knee. After everything that had happened, he had to resign himself for worse than what he’d already been through.

“He’s been lookin’ for you. Be awful happy when you come back with us,” said Simon, looking down at Ethan with disdain. “He’s gonna be happy to know you got your mom and the Chinese guy killed,”

Ethan turned his head a little, tears springing into his eyes. “He was Korean.”

Simon laughed. “He ain’t shit now,” he said, then crouched in front of Ethan. “You do know he was aiming for you,” he said, taking hold of Ethan’s jaw, forcing him to look at what remained of Glenn once more. “Damn shame too. Jason’s gonna be pissed when he sees what you made of yourself. Fuckin’ he-she,”

All he could do was remain silent as Simon tightened his grip on his jaw before he let go, pushing Ethan’s head to the side.

No-one else said or did anything, all remaining in their spots in varying states of shock until the RV finally returned. Ethan wondered if Negan had really killed Rick out there, or if it had been one of his tests. He’d taken Rick’s axe ( _Negan’s axe now_ ) and didn’t want to think of what the evil bastard would make Rick do.

The sun had long since risen when the RV had returned. Ethan didn’t want to know what would be revealed to their group. It must’ve been several long minutes before Negan and Rick came out of the vehicle. Being closest to the RV, Ethan could just about hear their voices, but their words far too incoherent and muffled for him to catch on.

Rick was pushed out of the RV and was dragged back into the middle of the clearing. Ethan had a bad feeling about this. He always had a bad feeling, but this dread was different, worse.

“Tell me, Rick, do you even know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan, standing over Rick. “Speak when you’re spoken to,”

“OK, OK,” said Rick. Or rather, that was what Ethan thought he said, the words too quiet for him to hear. He hated not being able to fully hear what was going on.

“That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that, I wanted you to understand. But you’re still looking at me the same damn way … like I shit in your scrambled eggs and that’s not gonna work. So, do I give you another chance?” Negan said, crouching down besides Rick’s form, twirling Lucille between his hands. Ethan glanced over at Carl, having a bad feeling about how Negan knew he was Rick’s son.

Whatever Rick said appeased Negan, since the man patted him on the back and stood back up. “OK, alright. And here it is, the grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your shit day will become everyone else’s shit day, or just another shit day. Put some guns to the back of their heads.” Negan commanded, and the Saviors were quick to execute the command. Ethan felt the barrel of a shotgun get pushed into the back of his head, and he felt himself go stock still, but kept his eyes upwards, towards Negan and Rick, able to see the others around him.

“Good, yeah. Now level with their noses, so if you have to fire,” he made an explosion sound, “it’ll be a real mess. Kid …” Negan said, looking at Carl and Ethan’s stomach twisted upwards around his heart.

 _Please don’t kill Carl,_ he thought, the sudden thought a prayer to whatever god, gods or goddesses might be real or listening or whatever. Desperation didn’t even cover what Ethan felt.

“Right here,” said Negan. “Kid, now.” Carl got up and walked to where Negan had pointed to. Negan took off his belt. “You a southpaw?”

“Am I a what?” asked Carl, a defiant tone to his voice that Ethan wished wasn’t there.

“You a leftie?”

Carl shook his head. “No,” he said as Negan began to wrap his belt around Carl’s upper arm. If Ethan’s chest got any tighter, it’d soon be impossible to breathe.

“Good,” said Negan. “That hurt?” Carl denied it. “It should. It’s supposed to. Alright, get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings.” He then threw Carl’s hat off to the side and pushed Carl onto the ground. “Simon, you got a pen?”

The man nodded and threw a pen to Negan who caught it with ease and pulled the cap off with his teeth. Ethan shut his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself at least a little bit. This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t do this to Carl, not after helping him get used to using his left hand and helping him readjust to his life depending on all the left.

“Sorry, kid. Ah, this is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s ballsack like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragged it right across your forearm. Gives you a little leverage.” Negan said, drawing a line on Carl’s arm. He looked at Rick. “Me, I ain’t doing shit. Rick, I want you to take your axe, cut your son’s left arm off, right on that line,” Ethan bit his lip, wondering what the fuck would happen. If Rick didn’t, then according to Negan, everyone here and back home would die.

Michonne said that they all understood, but apparently Rick didn’t understand. “Rick, this needs to happen now. Chop-chop. Or I will crush the little fella’s skull in myself,” said Negan, pointing Lucille at Carl’s head. “Rick, pick up the axe. Not making a fucking decision is a _big_ fucking decision. You really wanna see all these people die? You will. You’ll see every ugly thing. Oh my god, are you gonna make me count? You win, I am counting. THREE!”

And then Rick started panicking and crying. Negan slapped Rick and grabbed his face. Ethan could hear Rick screaming and hyperventilating as he raised his axe and Negan grinned, kneeling beside him and shouted at him, making him repeat after him.

Carl still had his left arm and now Alexandria was to give half their shit to Negan. “You did it, all of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground. They get the spirit award for sure. Today was a motherfucking productive damn day!

“Now I hope, for all your sake, that you fucking get it now, that you understand how things fucking work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that is fucking over now. Uh, Dwight, load him up,” he said, pointing towards Daryl. Dwight didn’t need telling twice as he manhandled Daryl back into the back of the van as Maggie made a weird sobbing noise. “He’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” he said, kneeling beside Rick. “I like him, he’s mine now. Oh, you still wanna try something ‘not today not tomorrow’, not today not tomorrow, I will cut pieces off of … hell’s his name?”

“Daryl,” said Simon after a moment.

“Wow, that actually sounds right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put it on your doorstep. Or better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.” He patted Rick. “I’m taking little baby Ethan too,” he said, flicking his wrist in Ethan’s direction. Ethan looked up and looked at Aaron for what felt like the last time before he got manhandled into the van too, colliding into Daryl. Whatever else Negan said, Ethan couldn’t hear. He could hear him telling them something, but the closed doors of the van made it impossible to hear him.

“Y’alright?” asked Daryl, voice gruff and nearly impossible to understand.

Ethan shook his head, pressing a hand to his mouth, trying not to think about everything had just happened. He barely registered that his hands were still stained in Daryl’s blood. “My mom, Glenn and Abraham,” he said, the words not sounding in his ears and he wondered if he really said it aloud.

“Sorry – sorry ‘bout yer mom.”

His shoulders shuddered, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat but all he could do was choke and sob, pressing his hands to his eyes, leaning forwards until the backs of his hands pressed into his knees. Beside him, Daryl put his arm around him, the uninjured one, not knowing what to do about the crying boy.

“She-she went looking and she paid the price and now – now-now- Eli, he’s-he’s fucking o-out there. I shouldn’t have fucking gone to Alexandria. If-if-if-if I’d kept walking, maybe I would’ve found more signs from him. He’s dead. Shit, he’s dead he’s dead,” Ethan groaned, hands gripping the hair around his ears, the pain and realisation settling even though he felt so incredibly numb. “My dad, he’s gonna be there. Daryl, I-I-I wanted to tell you that you, and Aaron and Eric are really important to me and you’re more like a father to me than the shitty one I got and I’m probably gonna die soon, and I wanted you to know because then at least one of you will know.”

Daryl shook him a little. “Y’ain’t gonna die, yeh gonna find yer brother and yer gonna be alrigh’,” he shifted beside Ethan. “Yer gonna be able to tell Aaron and Eric too,”

Although Ethan didn’t believe that for a second, he nodded along to what Daryl said, wondering just how fucked he’d be.


	12. Easy Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags come into effect here as Ethan endures child abuse in this chapter. It'll be continuous for some chapters, so just be wary. The tags have also been updated for things that'll happen in this chapter, which spill into future chapters.  
> Enjoy!

Ethan had been thrown into one of the cells in the factory that held the Saviors and Negan himself. He’d been stripped down to his underwear – a sports bra and some boxers that he’d worn the day he’d gone out looking for Daryl. The man in question was in the cell beside him, and if Daryl was as unlucky as he was, Daryl might have been stripped bare.

Really, Ethan didn’t mind the lack of clothes – so long as he didn’t have to see the wrong parts, he didn’t mind – but the fact that Dwight had taken his hearing aids from him put him on edge. He’d done it the second he’d dragged Ethan out of that damn van, hands ripping at his BTEs that for a second or two, Ethan panicked and thought the man had broken them. Daryl had gone to attack Dwight for what he did to Ethan, but with his gunshot wound, he’d barely lasted a second.

They’d put bags over their heads as they walked them to their cells, not letting them know the way out, but Ethan recognised some of the way that they took. He’d probably walked those hallways many times in his time with the Saviors. As soon as they’d gotten to the cells, one of the women – Laura – had come and taken his clothes, but let him keep his underwear, telling him that Negan was being nice enough to let him keep those.

But now he was hungry, cold, deaf and afraid and wasn’t sure what to do. He’d cried a fair amount, mourning his mother, Glenn and Abraham, letting himself be himself, knowing that he was locked away and locked up. Someone, maybe Dwight or Laura or even Sherry, Dwight’s wife, would come with food and those weird jumpsuits that they’d give for people managing the fence and the rest of those who had done wrong.

It had been a long while before Dwight had come with food, and Ethan knew exactly what it was: dog food in dry bread. Maybe a cup of water if he was lucky.

He was lucky. Ethan had stood opposite the door with dry eyes, the redness gone from his face as he’d taken the time to compose himself and make sure that he’d not show any weakness. Negan would want to break him, and he’d do his damnedest to drag it out for as long as possible.

He couldn’t hear the lock in the door unlocking. The sudden bright light had him wince, but for a mere moment, and then he was staring at Dwight’s scarred face. He looked so different from the last time he’d seen him, before Ethan had ran off with Eli. Dwight held out the sandwich and glass of water and Ethan took them silently and Dwight shut the door, and probably locked it behind him. Ethan didn’t bother to try it, knowing that’d just lead to pain and hurt.

Something that was setting him on edge was the fact that he hadn’t seen his father yet. It made him feel sick, the dog food sandwich almost coming up whenever he thought about it. If his father figured out which of the damn cells he was in, he guessed that his father would be the last person he’d ever see.

But then the music started.

It was this annoying, preppy tune and all the singer sang about was _‘Easy Street_ ’ and Ethan knew it was an attempt to break him, break Daryl, piss them off and not let them sleep. It was loud enough that Ethan could just about hear the words of the lyrics nearly word for word, though he didn’t want to concentrate on it too much and learn the lyrics, knowing that would send him over the tipping point. But with the whole deaf schtick Ethan had going on, the noise was just a vibrating thrum against his deaf ears, on his skin, seeping into his bones.

It almost felt like a sudden blanket, but he didn’t mind. He still managed to sleep. Though, he felt bad for Daryl – whose hearing was as superb as his eyesight and aim, who would be able to hear the song as clear as day and get driven insane by it.

Several days later, he was given one of those shitty jumpsuits. It reminded Ethan of prisoners in jail, to mark them out and let everyone else know that they’d done bad by Negan and were to pay for it. Ethan didn’t like the idea of being out there, with the rest of them, but knew it was inevitable. To his surprise, however, it had been Negan who had given him the clothes in person.

“You can read my lips, probably have a good idea as to what the fuck I’m saying,” he said, and Ethan nodded. Without the music playing, it was admittedly easier to hear him. Around the two was complete and utter silence. It made being able to just about hear what Negan said all the more easier. “Your daddy knows you’re back with us, and he knows about your … situation,” he said, and Ethan nearly threw up, balking at the idea, his stomach churning the dog food inside. He had to eat that stuff or starve. He chose not starving. “I’m gonna let him see you soon, as all good daddies should be allowed to do. You’ll be fine though.”

Ethan felt himself huff out a laugh that he couldn’t hear. Like his father had ever been good. “Right. Just turn a blind eye when you see me covered in bruises and scars, right? You always did before,”

Negan grabbed hold of Ethan’s bare shoulder (because all he’d done by that point was hold on to the clothes in his hands). “You listen to me, you little fuck,” Negan began. It took all Ethan had to suppress the shudder at being touched by the man. “I’m a nice guy, really, I am. I’m doing good by you by not letting your daddy here right fucking now. I know he wasn’t the fucking best, but he’s the best you’ve fucking got. You know how this shit fucking plays out. Either you work for me as the dead, you get to stay in this shithole you’re in right now, or you live like a fucking _king_. It’s your fucking choice, and we both know there’s no door number fucking four. So get fucking dressed, your daddy is gonna be here soon.” He let go of Ethan, then smiled at him.

It put Ethan on edge. Something else was yet to be said. “What else is there?” he asked, knowing there was no point playing dumb; Negan wanted him to ask, wanted him to ask for whatever shit Ethan had to pay for, had to do because he fucked up.

“Since you’re adamant that you’re a boy, and I ain’t judging you – be whatever you want, like whoever you want, so long as it ain’t one of my wives because we fucking know they’re out of bounds – so, since you’ve not really got the _parts_ yet, but there’s parts we can get _rid_ of … Carson is gonna give you some surgery. Of course, you’ll need to earn it after, but I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna love it that you’ll do anything for me afterwards anyway.”

“What do you mean, surgery?”

That fucking smile was back. Negan came a little closer to him, hand getting closer to Ethan’s chest –

Ethan slapped his hand away, beyond mortified and scared. “Don’t fucking touch me!” he snapped, words nearly coherent enough to his broken ears. Negan smiled at his reaction, fucker knew Ethan would react like that. “Why would you let him do that to me?”

“Because I want you to be happy, son.” Negan said, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ethan’s sweaty forehead, lingering a little too long. Then he turned and left, shutting the door, swamping Ethan in darkness once more. The boy in the dark thought he would throw up.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about five people – Enid, Aaron, Eric, Daryl and Carl. Five of the most important people in his life. He missed them so much. One was on the opposite side of the wall to him, locked away in a cell just like Ethan’s. The music still played overhead, but Ethan could only feel the vibrations on his skin, where it bounced off the walls and floor he was laid against and on. He wondered how Daryl was, how he was coping with the shit Negan was making him go through. He hoped that Daryl would make it out alive. A lot of people didn’t. But Daryl was strong, stronger than the others who endured the shit Negan put them through. Maybe he’d see Daryl again and they’d be alright, whatever alright was these days.

He wondered how he himself was dealing with the shit Negan was putting him through.

Trying not to think about it, he thought back to the last time he saw Enid – all happy and smiling in a way that made him smile nostalgically. He loved it when she smiled, it let him know that they really were friends, had each other’s backs and were real with each other. They trusted each other and talked, and it felt normal even though everything really wasn’t. He wished he’d seen her one last time before he went out with Glenn and Michonne and Rosita. Ethan wished that they hadn’t met the Saviors.

That night, when his mother, Glenn and Abraham died, he could remember Aaron and Carl’s faces when they saw him, all beaten up bloody by those fucking Saviors that thought it was funny to hit him and make him bleed. He could remember vividly how scared Aaron looked when he’d spotted him, the sadness in his eyes. Albeit Ethan couldn’t remember much after the three had been killed. He’d barely registered seeing Aaron’s expression until he recalled it from memory.

It took a few days after for Jason to see Ethan. During that time, Daryl had been beaten up by the other Saviors because he’d tried to escape, even though the whole set up had been intentional. He’d tried to get Ethan out of his cell, but it was thoroughly locked. Ethan had tried to convince him to stay in his cell, but Daryl had said something – maybe about going to get help or something – and Ethan couldn’t tell, so just told the man to do whatever he wanted to do, because Ethan was stuck right there.

They’d played the song Crying by Roy Orbison, and Ethan had been able to hear Daryl crying over the sound of the song and it made Ethan cry too. Just hearing the man sobbing made Ethan squirm where he’d been sitting, wishing for nothing more than to be there for Daryl and hug him in a way only Ethan was allowed to do. Ethan didn’t want to know why they’d chosen the Roy Orbison song, after having played that other song for so long. Whatever they’d done to Daryl right before that song had to have sent him to the tipping point, the song pushing him over it.

“So it’s true?” asked Jason, the door swung open, Ethan’s hearing aids thrown his way. He caught them in the air with ease, turned them on and put them on his ears. “You’re a fucking tranny?”

Ethan ran his tongue over his lips, eyes shutting momentarily. “Yes. My name’s Ethan,” he said, forcing himself to stop shaking. He couldn’t show weakness to his father if he told him he was a boy. He took a moment to catch his breath before he spoke up again, turning his head up to look at the man, whose face was shadowed. “Do you hate me?”

“Yes.”

He blinked harshly, refusing to cry, looking away. _Boys don’t cry_ , his father said. _Yes, they do,_ Ethan thought in response. “Do … did you know? What Negan was gonna do to Mom?” he decided to ask.

Jason took a moment before he replied. “Yes. She wanted to find you and Eli. Wanted to find you and run with you to safety, as if I’m not _safe_. I’m the one who kept our family together; as soon as you ran with Eli, everything was torn apart!” His voice rose to a yell and he grabbed Ethan roughly by the neck of his clothes and dragged him up into a stand. “You fucking destroyed our family, you useless shit,”

Ethan made himself look at his father, right in his eyes. “You’re the one who did that,” he said calmly, but bile rose in his throat. “You _ran off_ more than once. You left us for dead _more than once_.”

The punch was anticipated, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. Ethan hunched over in pain a little. “You fucking bitch,” Jason snarled, fist coming up to hit Ethan’s cheek. His head slammed into the wall behind him, but he tried his best not to cry out. “You fucking faggot,”

Three more blows hit him, and he fell to the floor, gasping for breath as blood dripped from his mouth. Jason’s boot hit him squarely in the chest and he fell onto his back, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. It wasn’t enough. Jason’s hand went into Ethan’s hair and he pulled him up to a stand again, only for his free hand to curl into a fist and land multiple blows on Ethan’s face, all hard and fast and painful. Ethan cried out, unable not to, and then Jason manhandled him lifting him off his feet before he tossed him into the wall opposite in the cell.

As Ethan rolled to a stop, he forced himself to slow his breathing down, the action of it setting off a fire in his lungs, but he did it anyway, keeping as still as possible, body limp, the blood dripping from his teeth as he lay face down on the cold concrete.

“If you wanna be a boy so bad, so be it.” Jason said, then spat on Ethan’s still body before he walked out of the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Ethan opened his eyes, looked around and touched his ears – he still had one in, if a little out of place. Carefully, he sat up, turning his body, running his hands on the floor from wall to wall, moving forwards in an attempt to find the other one. He wasn’t sure when it came free in the scuffle.

He found it on the other end and turned them both off, holding them in his hands as he let himself hold them close to his chest, his whole body aching as he sat up, back against the wall. The metallic taste of blood was still in his mouth, and when he spat, he could just see the red tinge of it. He groaned, eyebrows coming together as he breathed in deeply, the action shuddering. His entire body ached, face full of pain. Maybe his jaw had been broken, it was hard to tell, his nose definitely felt like it’d been broken. Ethan could feel the blood on his face, seeping out from the fresh wounds.

And then, instead of the Easy Street song, it was his mother’s favourite song. Bad Moon Rising by Credence Clearwater Revival.

The tears sprung to his eyes and he couldn’t help but sob.

Not for the first time he wished his mom was still alive.

 

* * *

 

 

Jason came to his cell every day. And everyday he made Ethan bleed. Sometimes he brought a knife with him, sometimes he just had his fists. Other times, he just yelled.

But still, it took its toll on Ethan.

He couldn’t believe that he’d really forgotten just how bad Jason Albright could be. The intensity and meaning of his words, the real harshness of his roughened fists, the sharpness and coolness of the blade he used on Ethan’s skin. He forgot what it was all like, but now he remembered.

There were things about Jason that made Ethan fear him, and it wasn’t just his abusive nature. It was the look in his eyes, how he walked and handled himself. The guy was damn terrifying to begin with, but everything else about him made him so much worse.

Currently, Ethan was in the medical ward, being checked over by Carson. The upper half of his jumpsuit was surrounding his hips, the sports bra the only thing covering the top half of his body, giving him a little bit of dignity, even if he didn’t have all that much left.

The wounds on his arms, belly and back weren’t pretty to look at. Jason had cut through the jumpsuit more than once, and that much was obvious.

“You won’t have an infection,” said Carson, though it didn’t relieve Ethan all that much. He didn’t have any way to stop what was happening to him. No-one else in the Sanctuary cared, and Daryl, the only person there who did want to help him and save him, was locked away in that fucking cell beside him, having to hear Ethan’s yells and screams and pleads for those things to stop.

“OK. Anything else, Doc?” he asked, raising his eyes to look at the man. Looking at the guy made Ethan feel uneasy. He gave him a weird feeling and he didn’t trust him one bit.

“That thing you wore on your chest before? Binder, wasn’t it? It’s not done as much damage to you as I thought it would. I’ve been reading things about these surgeries you’re going to go through, and everything should be ready for you by next week.”

Ethan felt like he was going to throw up. He hadn’t really thought of what Negan had said. By next week, Ethan would be dead. Negan walked in and his face split into a grin. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? I take it Jason’s not been treating you as good as he should be,” he said, eyeing up a nasty cut-turning-scar on Ethan’s shoulder that Jason had been kind enough to give him. The mark was long and jagged and purposely done and wouldn’t be the last and certainly wasn’t the first.

“Jason’s a fucking prick,” he said bluntly, hands going to the joints in his arms, all the better to stop himself shaking. He clenched his jaw, breathing steadily as he tried not to let himself break.

“Yeah, he is,” said Negan, then looked over at Dr Carson. “When will you be ready to give Ethie the surgery?” he asked, swinging Lucille casually. “I wanna have this shit done before we show Rick and the rest of the Prick Patrol just how much change we can put Ethie through,”

The doctor shrugged a shoulder. “We need to find some stool softener because the trauma to the chest will make bowel movement difficult,”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. He’d known about that from what little books he could find about being transgender and how the surgeries went and the aftermath of them. He didn’t like the idea of being constipated and needing stool softener – just those words made him feel weird. But what was scaring him was why Negan was getting Carson to operate on him. There had to be something that Negan got out of this, and it couldn’t just be him wanting Ethan not to endure dysphoria. It couldn’t _just_ be to show Rick and the others what he was capable of; there was always more with Negan. Maybe he wanted to just kill him - he had after all tried to before Glenn put a stop to that.

He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat as he kept glancing between the two men in the medical ward with him.

“That’s fine. I already got Dwighty boy out there scavenging just those magic pills. Why, if he’s back by tonight with them, Ethie, you’ll be having your surgery tomorrow!”

Tilting his head to the side, he nodded, a sort of smile on his face, but it wasn’t quite real and wasn’t quite right. He tried to ignore that if Dwight did come back with them, he’d be dead by tomorrow night, especially if they rushed it like Negan wanted. “I just have a question,” he said, voice low and rough, and it even sounded a little deep to his own ears. “Why are you going through all this trouble for me?”

Negan scoffed, smiling as he shook his head, turning around to grab the nearest chair. He placed it in front of Ethan and sat on it, feet kicked up onto the hospital bed Ethan was sitting on. “Well, Ethie, you’re a valuable person. Your daddy is one of my top men, and even though he _really_ fucking disagrees with whole thing, he does want you happy. So I got Carson here some books and researching all sorts of shit just for you! And low and behold, he has a good idea that he can give you this surgery. Of course, we don’t have all the equipment to give you the nice and easy way, so there’ll be some scarring on your chest, but fuck, kid, if your fucking scars are as fucking badass as I think they’ll be – no-one will fucking mess with you. You’ve got enough scars right now that even I don’t wanna fuck with you, but if your chest looks a little fucked up? People will fucking turn tail and run.”

“That still doesn’t explain it. You want me to be what? A scare monger?” He narrowed his eyes at Negan. “You’re pretty good at that yourself, what with bashing people’s heads in with Lucille.”

Negan did that fucking grin of his again. “If Rick and the Prick Patrol find out what I did to you, and you survive and stay at my side like you fucking _will_ , then hell, they’ll know not to fuck with either of us. I know what you’ve done, how many of my people you’ve killed, and even though that should put me off using you, I gotta say kid, you’re this close to being a psychopath.” He put his forefinger and thumb about a millimetre away from each other. “Me and you, we go and find that little serial killer you call a brother. You two and me? Shit, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“‘You earn what you take’,” said Ethan reciting the words that had been embedded in his head ever since he first stepped foot into the Sanctuary. “My surgery is my punishment for taking Eli, killing all those fuckers and stealing all those supplies, right? Because there’s no way this won’t be painful for me,”

He raised an eyebrow at Negan, who had a look on his face, that knowing one that he wore when he was smug and knew the inevitable of the situation. “The pain, yeah, that’ll be your punishment. But you gotta earn this shit. This – this is monumental, I am doing you a great goddamn favour! You’re gonna do as I fucking say, when I fucking say it. You put a fucking toe out of line, that toe is gonna come right the fuck off, and then you’ll have to earn that medicine it takes to keep that missing toe from getting infected. See, you’re just a kid, and I know you can change. So let me help you and you can help me. Even trade. You’ll get your own wives to fuck – or your own guys, I don’t fucking know which way you swing – but you gotta be my upcoming righthand man … my apprentice, if you will.”

Then to Ethan’s surprise, Negan held out his hand. “Do we have a deal, Ethan Dolori?”

Feeling like he was trapped either way, Ethan shook his outstretched hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan could feel the music pounding away, and he wondered how Daryl was. His head felt heavy and he wondered just what was going to happen to him – if Negan made Carson go through with this surgery, then Ethan had a high chance of dying. Carson wasn’t an expert in this field, and with his limited knowledge, Ethan had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t survive the aftermath of the surgery, or the surgery itself.

The music was cut short and Ethan felt its presence vanish. Nervously, he put his BTEs back in place, switching them on, straining his ears for any sign of the reason why it had stopped.

Someone was coming, it was faint, dipping in and out of Ethan’s hearing range, and he supposed that that was because the batteries were dying. Someone was coming for either Daryl or Ethan. They’d already been given the shitty dog food sandwiches, so there was no other reason for someone to be coming near their cells. Unless it was time for Ethan to have surgery.

They’d postponed it for a few days when Negan went out to the settlements to get his shit, and Carson had to tend to other patients. They’d just let Ethan live on borrowed time.

The door to Ethan’s cell was swung open and Dwight was standing there, with Daryl beside him. “It’s time, get up,” said Dwight, reaching down to grab Ethan’s arm, yanking him up to his feet. “You wanna be a boy so much, you’ve got your fucking chance,” he grunted, dragging Ethan through the hallways, not stopping when Ethan tripped and stumbled over his feet.

“Ethan –” Daryl began, but Dwight was quick to shut him up.

“You don’t talk to her,” he said, and Ethan felt the weird iron clamp on his chest, like he’d been thrown into cold water and he felt like he was going to be sick. “You don’t do shit unless you’re fucking told to. You’re gonna see just how nice Negan can be, even to the people who betray him,”

They made it to the medical ward, where Negan and Carson were already sat. “Ethie!” he yelled, clapping his hands together. “We finally got all your shit ready. Are you excited?”

He didn’t know if he should respond to that properly or not. “W-why are Dwight and Daryl here?” he asked instead.

“They’re gonna see everything happen,” said Negan, grinning as the horror made its way onto Ethan’s face.

“Don’t,” he inhaled, sudden and sharp and audible. “I don’t want anyone to see it.” His hands went to his chest, the bumps there just visible enough even with the sports bra as a compressor and the dirty jumpsuit he was wearing. He blinked quickly, but the tears made an appearance anyway. “Pl-please don’t.” His voice cracked, going higher.

And then everything went to shit.

Dwight grabbed a better hold of Ethan’s arm and he tried to get back, push him away, but Jason had appeared behind him, grabbing his other arm, the two of them forcing Ethan forwards, even though he tried his best to get as far away from it as possible. He looked behind to see Daryl held at gunpoint by Negan. As he turned back, he lifted his foot up and pushed it hard against the bed, trying to stay as far away from it as possible, pushing against it in a futile attempt to get away.

“You wanted to be a boy so fucking bad, you fucking shit,” Jason snarled, freeing one hand so that it could come up and hit Ethan hard in the back of his head, enough to disorientate him and even have him black out for a second or two; it’d been all they needed.

Dwight and Jason pulled Ethan onto the bed and held him down, cuffing his wrists and ankles to the bedposts. He rattled them, trying to get free, but then Jason held down his arm, pulling up the sleeve and then Carson was walking towards him with something that might’ve been anaesthetic, but Ethan was too panicked to really know.

“Please, don’t!” he screamed, turning away when the needle went into the crook of his elbow. He could feel the liquid go into his system, and he felt the tears fall from his face as his breathing continued to become laboured. “I hate you, you fucking assholes!”

Jason put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and pushed him into the bed. “Go to sleep, you fucking he-she,” said Jason, and it was the last thing Ethan heard as the drugs finally kicked in, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as the darkness finally swallowed him up.

He barely felt any pain.


	13. Sudden Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethan now has to deal with being incapacitated. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback and what your thoughts are on this fic so far; it's always fun to hear from you.  
> As always, enjoy!

Everything was blurry. Blurry and painful.

Ethan didn’t know what was going on. There was pain every which way he turned to. He felt like he was suffocating in it. He wished that he wasn’t hurting, but it felt like that was embedded in every part of his being. The pain was immeasurable, and it went down his throat, burned his lungs, stabbed at his heart. He wished it would just stop and let him rest.

He thought he felt something against his ears, like when he couldn’t hear, and the vibrations just bounced off them. Something bright flashed in what might’ve been his eyes and he let out a groan, trying to turn away from it. Ethan might’ve batted his hand against it, but it was hard to tell.

Something was pushed into his ears, and the sudden burst of sound jerked him into full consciousness. He blinked several times, pushing the ebbing darkness away. Ethan found himself staring at a ceiling. There was still pain coursing through his body, but he was laid on a bed, staring up at a ceiling. It took him a moment to realise he wasn’t in his cell, and that there was actual sunlight on his face.

“You’re awake – good. You’ve been out for a few days, but you’re gonna make a full recovery,” a voice said, and Ethan just groaned a little, looking around to check what the hell was going on. He looked around and saw Carson standing beside him. “Ethan?”

He frowned, then tried to put his arm over his eyes, but found a stabbing, jarring pain stopped him before his arm had even moved two inches. He made a gasping noise, feeling like he was going to throw up. “Urgh, oh fuck, I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” he said, trying to sit up, but it felt so difficult trying to do it. Carson was quick to help him into a sitting position.

“You’re gonna feel a little sick for a few days, but the surgery wasn’t as messy as I thought it would be. So long as you take it easy, you’ll be fine.”

“Why-why can’t I lift my arms?” he asked, feeling very light-headed. He had to blink the spots out of his eyes. “Wh-wha-wh-”

Carson handed him a cup of water. “Stitching you back up, the change in the area, it means that your upper body movement will be restricted until everything has healed up,”

But Ethan was still confused. He frowned, taking a deep breath as he tried to take in Carson’s words. What was he talking about? He made a grunting noise, turning his gaze down to his lap, and then he saw the bandages. And everything came flooding back.

His mouth ran dry. “Did-did – who saw the surgery?”

“We shouldn’t put stress on you, I don’t know how badly that might affect you,” the doctor began, but Ethan waved him off as much as he could with the minimal arm movement he now had.

 _“Who saw?_ ” he demanded, gripping Carson’s arm tightly. “Who saw?” he yelled, throat burning from the rawness.

Carson sighed. “All of them present. Negan, Dwight, Daryl and Jason.”

He let go of the man’s arm, sniffing before he let out a breath, tongue running over the inside of his lower lip. He couldn’t believe they all saw him – without his consent and whilst he was unconscious. He felt dirty, wanted to rip at the bandages, rip at the stitches in his chest until he bled out and died. Ethan felt the bile rise in his throat and tried to swallow it back down, refusing to keep his mouth open. It felt difficult to breathe, unable to take larger breaths without it causing stabbing in his chest.

But now, Ethan refused to cry. He wouldn’t, not while he was still with the Saviors, not while he was still with Negan. He took a moment to compose himself because he had to, otherwise he’d not survive. He was going to survive and fucking kill Negan and the rest of the Saviors. He’d find a way out, just like he did last time, and he’d go to either the Hilltop or Alexandria and get the people closest to them and take them east, back to where he used to live, because that was too damn far for the Saviors to follow after them. Maybe he’d find Eli on the way back. Fuck, thinking about Eli hurt so much.

“I heard that the boy is around,” the doctor said conversationally, as he begun to unwrap the bandaging around Ethan’s chest to check how his stitches were.

“What boy?” asked Ethan, glancing up at the older man. His brain suddenly kicked into action and his face tightened. “You mean _Carl_ is here? How?”

Carson shrugged his shoulders, unwinding the last of the bandages. “Snuck in on a truck from the Hilltop, according to Dwight. Took out a few of the men and Negan’s been giving him a grand tour,” he said, dumping the dirty bandages. It gave Ethan a moment to look down at his chest.

It wasn’t pretty.

In the books he’d found, he saw some pictures of chests that had top surgery when the bandages were taken off initially. This didn’t look like it at all.

The stitches made it look worse, the incisions were awkward, and it looked like his skin was cut with those kids scissors that had purposely zig-zagged blades that were safe for their young hands. He felt disappointed, because it hadn’t turned out like he wished it had. Staring at his chest made him feel sick, so he turned his gaze away, deciding to look at the tray of medical equipment beside him.

“I’m sorry about your chest,” said Carson, though it didn’t matter; the damage was done. “I wish I’d been able to do it better, but there’s only so much I can do. But it should heal all the same, given time.” Ethan wasn’t quite sure it would heal all the same. It might not even heal properly.

He made a grunting noise, clearing the back of his throat. “OK. Do you have an estimate?” he asked as the doctor started grabbing all sorts of medication and medicinal things that Ethan didn’t quite recognise. He made Ethan lay back on the bed which had been altered so that Ethan could stay in a sitting position until he healed up.

The doctor started to apply some cream to his chest, being careful when Ethan hissed in pain. “Two, three weeks? Maybe a month. It depends on your body, really,” he said, finishing up his work before he gave Ethan some aspirin and stool softeners. “Your body will thank you for these,” he told him, handing over the packets. “Negan’s got it set up so that you’ve got your own room until you’re all healed up. By that time, you ought to become his apprentice.” The doctor advised.

Before either of them could say another word, Dwight came in. “Negan needs you both, wants the doc down by the furnace. Wants me to bring up Ethan to him.”

“Ethan is in no shape to start walking around –”

“Boss man doesn’t give a fuck what you think, he wants Ethan there _now_ ,”

Sighing to himself, he looked at the doctor. “Just bandage me up and I can go,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “You said upper body movement would be restricted, not the lower part.”

Dr Carson didn’t look too pleased but relented and finished up checking Ethan’s current state and bandaged him up quickly and effectively. Dwight didn’t allow him to put something on his upper body before he made Ethan leave. All he had on was the jumpsuit tied around his waist and bandaging on his chest.

Dwight kept a firm hand on Ethan’s upper arm as he led him to wherever it was Negan wanted him to go. They found him inside one of those stupid rooms for the Saviors.

“Ethan!” yelled Negan, clapping his hands together. “Nice to finally see you up and running. Well, not really running, I’m guessing,”

Ethan nodded to Carl who was beside Negan, and he looked shocked to see Ethan, and Ethan had a good inkling that his expression was similar to Carl’s. “Fuck’s he doing here?” he asked, arms going beneath the bandaging on his chest. “Why isn’t he at Alexandria?” Carl’s hair was covering his right eye, but there was no mistaking the fact that there was nothing covering the missing eye, the fact that you could see his socket.

“Can you believe he tried to come and kill me? Man, he’s got such big balls he can help make up for the fact you ain’t got shit,” said Negan, looking at Carl with what might’ve been interpreted as admiration. Ethan gave Carl a look that clearly said ‘ _what the fuck were you thinking you stupid plank? You’re supposed to be at home and safe_ ’, but he decided against verbalising it in case Negan punished him for it.

He tiled his head to the side, shaking it a little. “Might not have ‘em but we both know they’re bigger than yours,” he replied, staring at Negan unblinkingly. Negan’s grin grew.

“See, this is why I have you as an apprentice … when you’re, y’know, able to lift your arms up higher than whatever the fuck it is now. How high can you lift them?”

He knew he was being ridiculed but raised them as far as he could, which wasn’t really much at all; he could keep his arms to his sides and he felt he looked like a T-Rex. And then Dwight lifted one up higher and he let out a scream, the pain shooting through his fresh stitching, right from the line of stitches, going up through his arm to the tips of his fingers. He reacted on instinct, turning around in the man’s grip, pulling him close enough to punch him in the throat, knee coming into contact with the man’s nose before he kicked him to the floor. “Son of a whore,” he hissed, hand going over the bandaged area as he blinked the stars from his eyes. He moved away from the man, leaning against a desk, eyes upwards as he fought back the tears. He turned his head and spat onto the floor, trying to withhold the groan as the pain coursed through his chest.

“That you are, kid,” said Negan, and Ethan ignored the jab at his mother, choosing to massage the aching area instead. “But you gotta admit that your reaction is amazing! How quick was that, you one-eyed wonder? Or – did you not see it, because you’ve only got half your fucking vision?”

Ethan could deal with Negan throwing shit at him, but not at Carl. “Fucking leave him out of it,” he said before he could say anything else. “Just take him home.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, waggling a finger as he moved closer to Ethan. “Carl’s gotta know how punishments work around here. Dwight, get the fuck up, you’re ridiculous. I need you to be by the furnace. Walk with me, boys, we’ve got a furnace to use!”

With no other choice, the two teenage boys followed the man.

“Ethan –”

Instantly, Negan turned around and glared at the two of them. “Nope. No talking. If you two speak to each other, I will either rip out Carl’s only eye or rip out both of yours.” He pointed at Ethan, the anger and hatred in his eyes pure and menacing. But he didn’t step back. He simply stared back, blank face as neutral as possible. “You’d be great at poker, Ethie,”

He smiled at him sarcastically. Negan stood up straight and turned back around and continued walking. Ethan looked at Carl, signing the letters W, T and F at him.

‘Kill him,’ Carl signed back, glancing back at Negan. ‘How are you?’

‘Shit. No more signing.’ he signed, turning his gaze back to Negan as they got closer to the furnace. “Who’s getting it?” he asked, voice rough and scratchy. His throat was sore, and he guessed he was really dehydrated. “Carson?”

Negan didn’t answer, but that knowing glint was back in his eyes. So yes, it could be Carson, or someone entirely different. The man began to bang Lucille on the metal railings and Ethan paused to compose himself for less than a second. And when he opened his eyes, he saw Carl move less than an inch closer to him. But the two continued to walk until Negan paused and made Carl hold Lucille. Everyone below them had knelt.

Upon closer inspection, it didn’t look like Carson in the chair, and then he noticed the doctor knelt farer away. Ethan knew what was going to happen to the man and couldn’t help but pity him. He knew that getting the iron was probably part of Ethan’s fate, but so far, he’d been lucky enough not to have it.

“You know the deal. What’s about to happen is gonna be hard to watch. I don’t wanna do it. I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide, but I can’t. Why?” he asked.

“Rules keep us alive,” the rest of them said, and when Negan looked at Ethan, he repeated the words. He massaged his aching chest, feeling weird that there was nothing on it any more.

Negan continued to walk and led them down the stairs. “That is right,” he said with a short pause between each word. “We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilisation back to this world. We are the Saviors. But we can’t do that without rules. Rules are what make it all work. I know it’s not easy, but there is always work, there is always cost. Here, if you try to skirt it, if you try to cut that corner …” he chuckled, and Ethan resigned himself to seeing yet another person get the iron. He could see the realisation building in Carl’s expression before he closed it, barely sharing a glance with the boy. “Then it is the iron for you.” There was a silence so heavy it hurt. “On your feet,” said Negan, and then they walked down the rest of the stairs.

He led Carl and Ethan into the middle, letting them trail behind him. “D,” he said, and Ethan had to prepare himself because it was going to smell. Negan put on the gloves whilst Dwight got the iron and handed it over to the man. “Mark, I’m sorry. But it is what it is,” he said, and Ethan could see the fear in the man’s face as Sherry went and spoke to someone – Annie or Amber, he couldn’t recall her name.

And then the iron was put to Mark’s face, and the shock was set in Carl’s face. Negan chuckled. “Ah, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” he asked, handing the iron back to Dwight who put it down on the furnace. Negan said something else, but his words weren’t picked up by the BTEs.

Then Ethan realised how close he and Carl had gotten and he edged away a little bit, because he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk Carl.

Negan whispered something in Daryl’s ear and then Daryl began to mop up. “Doc, I’m all done, do your thing,” he said dismissively, raising a hand at the man as he turned away from the scene. “Well, the pussy passed out. But it’s settled, we’re square, everything is fucking cool. Let Mark’s ugly ass face be a daily reminder, to him and to everyone else, that the rules fucking matter. I hope that we all learned something today, because I don’t ever want to have to do that fucking shit again.” He winked at Carl and Ethan, then whispered something to Carl that Ethan didn’t catch. “Come along, you two,” he said, putting his arms around the two boys before he led them out.

“How’s that chest of yours doing, Ethie?”

“As well as it could be,” he said, the tension slipping into his body. He was never sure how to act around Negan, though found that it was better to answer his questions.

Negan nodded his head and then looked between the two boys. “Wait, were you two fucking?”

“Ew,” Ethan said before he could stop himself.

“Well, that answers that question.” Negan said, though looked at the two again, coming to a conclusion. “Something was fucking happening between you two.” He led them back to his large room, past all his wives. He made them sit opposite each other, sitting next to Ethan on the large leather sofa as he wrote – or doodled – in that fucking notepad of his.

Ethan was in so much pain, but he kept his eyes on his hands. But he could still see how antsy Carl was getting. “Can I wrap up my face now?”

“No, you fucking cannot,” said Negan, looking over at Carl. Ethan didn’t look up at either of them, wondering what was going on before he decided he ought to make sure Carl didn’t look at Negan the wrong way.

“Why the fuck not?” Carl demanded, that angry look on his face back. Negan only laughed in response.

“Look at this _badass_. You can’t because I’m not fucking done with you. And I like looking at your rad-ass, badass fucking eye, so it’s staying out,” he said. “What? You got something to say?”

“Why haven’t you killed me? Or my dad, or Daryl or even Ethan?” he asked, gesturing to Ethan.

Negan ran his tongue over his teeth, and Ethan kept looking between the two, wondering whether things would finally start going to shit – if they weren’t already in the shit now. “Daryl is gonna make a good soldier for me. You see, he thinks he’s holding it together, but you saw it. And your dad, he’s already getting me fucking great stuff. Ethan here is gonna become my mini me, an apprentice of sorts, maybe even my righthand fucking man, if I decide to make Dwight and the rest fuck off. You, on the other hand … well … we shall see. It’s more productive to break you, more fun too. You’re thinking that’s stupid?”

Carl replied almost immediately. “I’m thinking we’re different.”

Ethan almost said _no shit, Sherlock_ , but kept his mouth shut. Negan leaned forwards in his seat, uncrossing his legs as he put his arms on his thighs, hands together in the space between his legs as he analysed Carl. “You’re a smart kid. What do you think I should do? You know I can’t fucking let you go. So, do I kill you? Iron your face; chop off your arm? Tell me. What do you think I should do?”

The boy opposite moved so suddenly it almost scared Ethan. He pointed to the window, “I think you should jump out the window to save me the trouble of killing you,” he said, standing over Negan. Not for the first time, Ethan worried about Carl and his severely lacking self-preservation skills.

But it amused Negan a lot, apparently. “Oh!” he clapped his hands. “Now there is the kid that impressed the fuck outta me,”

“I think you’re not saying what you’re gonna do to me because you’re not gonna do anything. If you knew us, if you knew anything, you would kill us,” said Carl, leaning over Negan in a way that nearly had Ethan screaming that Carl was doing a stupid thing. “But you can’t.”

“Maybe you’re right, maybe I can’t,” he clapped his hands again. “Let’s go for a ride, kid,” he said, getting up, dragging Carl out. “You’re fucking staying there, Ethie, until Carson comes for you.”

Carl glanced back at him, a look on his face that Ethan couldn’t truly comprehend, not when the pain in his chest was getting worse.

 

* * *

 

 

Carson didn’t end up coming for Ethan – Sherry did.

Ethan had been trying to get over the pain, to power through it because even though he’d had some aspirin to ease the pain, it just wasn’t enough, and he didn’t want to risk overdosing and accidentally kill himself, though he guessed it would give Negan a fair bit of a surprise to find walker-Ethan trying to kill him and eat him.

“Listen, you need to come with me,” she said, voice whisper quiet as she helped him to his feet, he was surprised he could actually hear her more than anything. “I know you’re in a lot of pain, but we don’t have a lot of time. With Negan gone, you can escape. But we need to be quick,”

She led him out of the room, and the room outside of it was empty of Negan’s wives. Sherry didn’t stop walking as she led him out of the Sanctuary, to where Dwight’s room was. “Go – Daryl should be there too,” she said.

“What-what about you?” he asked, looking at her. “Come with us,”

Sherry shook her head and wiped at her face. “Knowing you’ll be OK is all that matters, Ethan,” she said, kissing his forehead, taking him by surprise. “Go.”

“Thank you,” he said, then walked into the room.

There was Daryl, dressed in Dwight’s clothes, eating out of a small tub. He near enough ran to him. “Daryl!” he hissed, not quite capable of believing that this was happening. He shut the door behind him quietly, eyes wide as he stared at his friend.

“Ethan,” he said, grabbing hold of his arm. “Here,” he said, turning to grab some of the clothes on the ground. He helped ease Ethan into the flannel, buttoning it for him with shaking hands. “How’s yer chest?” he asked.

He groaned. “A fuckin’ bitch,” he said, kicking the jumpsuit off his body, leaving him in the tattered, dirty boxers. Daryl helped him into some trousers before grabbing the medicinal stuff that fell from the suit, giving some to Ethan before he put the rest into his pockets, securely zipping it shut.

The two listened, straining their ears as they heard yelling. And then they took their chance.

Daryl kept a firm hold on Ethan’s arm, both of them racing to wherever it was that Daryl was taking them, almost getting caught by some people when they nearly ran past the open door. As they ran past, Daryl got a weird pole thing and they kept running. They burst through a door after Daryl had slipped the lock, into the bright light, and Ethan found that they were where they stored the bikes. Daryl led them further, about to try and hotwire one of the bikes.

And then Fat Joey appeared. The two paused, standing up, Ethan grabbing the nearest item that looked like a sort of wrench as Daryl edged closer to the man, weapon hidden. Joey had dropped his sandwich, putting his hands up in the universal surrender position.

“What the hell. Whoa, whoa. It’s cool I swear,” he said, shifting his weight on his feet as Daryl steadily approached him, his grip tightening on the pole in his hand. “Buddy, you can walk right out that back gate there, and I won’t say anything to anybody. I’m supposed to be there now, but listen I’m just trying to get by, just like you. Please.”

But then Daryl was hitting him, and it reminded Ethan just of Negan and he couldn’t look. When Ethan looked up, he saw Jesus was standing there. Daryl dropped the pole.

“It ain’t just about getting by here, it’s about getting it all,” he said after snatching up the gun from Fat Joey’s waistband. “I got the keys, let’s go,” he said, and then the three clambered onto the bike, finding it a tight fit, Ethan shifting uncomfortably.

“Ethan?” asked Jesus.

“Just go,” he said thickly, arms around Daryl’s middle even though it made his chest turn into fire, and then they were zooming off, out of the back gate that Fat Joey was supposed to be at. It had been a clean, quick exit. Ethan rested his head on the back of Daryl’s neck, blinking slowly. He felt hyperaware of his breathing, all slow and loud and jagged. He was aware of Jesus’ grip on him, his eyes on him.

They drove for a while – a half an hour, an hour, he wasn’t sure – and then Ethan truly was feeling sick.

“Can we stop?” he asked, loud enough to be heard over the motor.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t wanna throw up on you,”

Daryl slowed the bike to a stop and jumped off and helped Ethan to a stand, getting him off the bike and got him a few feet away, into the trees before whatever was in Ethan’s stomach came back out. It felt like it was mostly stomach acid. He spat on the ground, arm on Daryl’s back, as high up as his arm would go. “Fuck my life,” he grunted, wiping his mouth. “Fuckin’ Carson and fuckin’ Negan, my fuckin’ life,”

“What’s wrong?” asked Jesus, coming closer to the two.

“The doctor at the Saviors’ place he –”

Ethan cut Daryl off. “Negan knows I’m trans and made the doctor cut off shit from my chest and it’s fucked me up,” he said, groaning when Daryl pulled him upright. “Wish I didn’t just throw up all the drugs,” he muttered before the three got back on the bike, driving off towards one of the two save havens that they had.


	14. Strained Nights

Ethan could barely remember when they arrived at the Hilltop, having a sneaking suspicion that he’d gone in and out of consciousness during the drive. He guessed that the two men had made sure he hadn’t slipped and had a sneaking suspicion that he’d been resting against Jesus for the majority of the ride back to the community. Really, Ethan was surprised that he wasn’t dead from his injuries. Jesus’ chest was probably really comfy to rest against.

But they were there, it was real, and it wasn’t some awful dream.

“ETHAN!” Enid yelled, and she was running at him as Jesus helped him off the bike and collided with him, hugging him tightly.

“Oww,” he said, wincing, but he hugged her back just as fiercely, refusing to let go even when the pain asked for it. She was there. He didn’t understand why Enid was there when she should’ve been back in Alexandria. But she was there with him. “You’re OK,” he said, sounding amazed. Of course she’d be OK, she was Enid. He saw Maggie coming up behind Enid and she offered him a smile. She looked better than the last time he’d seen her.

She scoffed, pulling away so that she could look at him, her hands on his upper arms. “You’re _alive_ ,” she said, then looked over him. “You look like you’re dying,” she said, the fear seeping in, her eyes widening. “You’re not –”

It was his turn to make the scoffing sound. “Bitch, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Negan just … gave me some surgery and I’m still recovering. Happened a few days ago. I think. I blacked out for a while.” He sighed, wincing when he tried to lift his arm up. “I don’t know how long I was out of it after it happened, but I’m still hurting and recovering. But I’ll be OK.”

Jesus appeared by Ethan’s side. “We need to get our Dr Carson to check you out, see what his brother did to you,”

“So long as this Carson isn’t a creepy old guy, that’s fine with me,” he said, letting Jesus lead him towards the medical trailer.

Then things became surreal.

This Dr Carson felt like the complete opposite of his brother – for one, he didn’t make Ethan feel uneasy – and even though he had next to no knowledge on what his brother had put Ethan through, he did his best to make sure that Ethan’s scarring would heal up as naturally as possible. He gave Jesus and Daryl strict notes on when Ethan should use medication, and to not use any more if Ethan threw up again, the doctor not risking overdosing at all. He’d also said that his brother had been right on needing the stool softener and wrote a note for Jesus on the times when Ethan had to take them.

Daryl had refused to be looked at by the doctor. They’d gotten back to Jesus’ trailer and Daryl had said that Ethan needed a shower. Ethan had retorted that so did he, but with both Daryl and Jesus looking at him, he knew he had to relent. But he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to shower if he couldn’t get his chest wet, when it was a main part of his body.

“Goddamn this is so humiliating,” said Ethan as he stepped into the small shower cubicle, sitting down on the stool inside. “I hate this,”

Jesus turned the water on and it began a steady stream over Ethan’s legs, cleaning away some of the dirt there. “Well, it’s just me here, and there’s no judgement here.” He smiled at Ethan as he knelt outside of the small shower cubicle, doing most of the cleaning, so all Ethan could do was stare at him.

He bit his lip as he cocked his head to the side. “Can I ask you something? It’s a bit personal,”

Although he saw the tension drive its way into Jesus’ back, the man still nodded. “Go ahead,”

“Are you gay?” he asked, speaking quieter than he had thought. “I am. I think. I like guys,” he pursed his lips a little, “maybe just one guy. And Aaron and Eric are like dads to me, and you remind me of them in a certain way that didn’t make sense at first,”

Jesus gave himself a moment before he answered, using the silent time to clean the scrub he had been using and started on Ethan’s arms. “Yeah, I am,” he said with a nod, since Ethan didn’t wear his BTEs in the shower in case the steam fucked with them. “No-one else knows,”

“Won’t hear it from me. Ain’t my shit to say,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, even though doing the action was a pain. “Do you … did you have shit parents like me?”

The man shook his head. “Grew up in a group home, spent most of my life sleeping with one eye open in case someone tried to fuck with me or my shit. I guess it helped for when the apocalypse hit,”

“Our past selves had something useful in them, otherwise we’d all be dead,” said Ethan, wincing when Jesus washed over a more recent cut that Jason had so kindly gifted Ethan. “Tell you what, I don’t fucking miss my dad. What an asshole,” he said, trying to make light of the situation.

But neither of them could really ignore the mess that was on Ethan’s skin. “Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Was it just your father?” asked Jesus, trying to keep his face neutral the more he saw the scars, but it looked like he was having some trouble. Ethan nodded, trying not to think about each time he had his skin pulled apart by the cool blade, or ripped from a harsh brute hit.

His body was beginning to shake, but Jesus had nearly finished cleaning Ethan up, his hair the last to be cleaned. Jesus was careful enough to not let any of the shampoo or conditioner go down Ethan’s back or his front. He finished up quickly and easily, using a towel to dry the boy up, helping him into some clothes that someone had brought them whilst Ethan had been with the doctor.

“You’re OK,” said Jesus, helping Ethan to a stand so that he could get out of the boxers and change into some fresh ones and some pyjama bottoms. He felt embarrassed that he needed help getting into them, but Jesus had been nice and hadn’t looked, face to the ceiling as Ethan had to grip his arms tightly as he put his legs through the holes. He didn’t look in the mirror; he didn’t think he could stand to see what stared back.

“Where am I gonna sleep?” he asked, frowning. “There’s barely room for you and Daryl, and with me …” he trailed off, unable to really look at Jesus.

The man smiled at him, leading him out of the small shower. “You’re having the sofa, I’ve got the floor and Daryl’s got my bed. You’ve got most of the pillows, since Dr Carson said you need to stay in a sitting position for the most part until your chest has healed properly, which is why you’re gonna be on the sofa. Don’t worry, it’s OK.”

“You-you don’t have to,” said Ethan as he caught sight of Daryl. He’d been setting the pillows on the sofa.

“Yer havin’ the sofa,” he said sternly. “Now get,” he said, helping Jesus lead Ethan to the sofa. “Yeh need to sleep, so sleep. We’re both gonna be here when yeh wake up.”

Moderately comfortable on the sofa, though feeling like he was going to sink to the floor, Ethan allowed himself to go to sleep, feeling that it was much needed.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up, it was night out and there was a lantern on in the trailer he was in. Someone was sat at the small table and another was laid on the bed. It took him a moment to realise who they were.

It took him another moment for him to realise just how much pain he was in.

“I am on fire, I want to die.” he said, voice louder than he thought it would be, even though it sounded weird and muffled. Right. His shitty hearing. He went to touch his ears, but the pain in his chest stopped him.

Right.

Someone was in front of him and he looked and saw Jesus, hand held out with his hearing aids in. Once he’d put them in, Jesus started talking. “Enid, Maggie and Sasha wanted to come around earlier, but I told them that you were asleep and needed the rest. They didn’t wanna wake you. They’re gonna come around first thing in the morning.”

“OK,” he said, nodding as he shifted himself up more. “We have food, right? I’m kinda hungry,”

Daryl snorted. “Kinda? Yer stomach won’ shuddup,” he said, flicking a page in the book in his hands. “Someone brough’ pie earlier, saved a piece for yeh,” he added, nodding towards the table. Jesus got him a slice and put it on a plate for him.

“It’s blackberry pie,”

Ethan tried to be a little dignified as he scoffed it down. “Don’t care. Hungry.”

He was well aware of the humour radiating off the two men and ignored it. He was fucking hungry. But he caught the longing look Jesus had on his face as he looked at Daryl, who had turned away back to his book. Ethan didn’t lick the plate clean, knowing that he’d be teased for it mercilessly. When he finished, he wiped his mouth, shifting where he sat.

He was wide awake and restless, but all he was supposed to do was rest. Daryl made him take some more aspirin, but he was still restless with nothing to do. Naturally, Ethan’s mind decided to try and fuck with him.

All he could think about was everything that happened at the Sanctuary, what Negan had done to him. He remembered what Carson had told him when he had woken. “Daryl?” he asked, eyes on the ceiling. “Carson said you saw.”

He could feel whatever that was from Daryl. “Didn’.” he said. “Wouldn’.” Daryl shook his head.

“Carson said that Negan, Dwight, you and my fuckshit father _saw_. Was he lying?” He turned his head in the direction Daryl was in. He raised his eyebrows as he pressed his lips together, well aware of the stinging in his eyes, of the tears coming to his eyes.

Daryl got up and sat beside Ethan, nudging him so that he’d shift a little so that Daryl could lay down beside him. It was a little cramped, but Daryl made it work. He was clean and didn’t smell like something that had died, so Jesus must’ve thrown him into the shower or something whilst Ethan had been asleep. “Didn’. Just kept starin’ at yer legs. Weren’ gonna look at yeh when that shit happened,” he said, shaking his head. “Whatever shit they did to me, they did worse to yeh. An’ am sorry. I couldn’ do shit to stop it,”

“So long as you didn’t see,” he said, offering a broken smile to the older man as he rested against his side, Daryl’s arm around him. “Could barely look at that fucking mess myself before the doc went at it. Least it’s gone now, I guess.” He glanced down at his chest, letting out a weird laugh. “Surprised I’m not dead, if I’m honest. Didn’t think Carson would manage to do it moderately successfully. And I kind of miss it, which is really weird. I don’t really understand why, but there’s gotta be a reason. Wish I didn’t but I do. As much as I fucking hated it, it was a physical part of me and now it’s gone, and I didn’t say when or how or why it should leave and they took that option from me. Never thought I’d _have_ the option; guess that’s what fucks me up the most, huh.”

Daryl looked a little lost on what to do. “Negan’s gonna pay,” he said simply. “Dwight an’ yer father too.”

“Negan’s hard to kill. Jason’s harder.” He shrugged his shoulders, mouth twitching. “Thought my mom was damn near impossible to kill with everything she went through, but Negan – Negan, he just. She didn’t deserve it. She never killed a person, always, _always,_ gave food to me and Eli, even when she needed to eat too. Mom had a mouth on her, even when she shouldn’t have.” He gritted his teeth, breathing out through his mouth as the tears stung at his eyes.

“Ethan,” said Jesus gently. “When they brought Maggie here, they brought back those who Negan killed. Including your mom. She’s buried in between Abraham and Glenn,” he informed him.

He couldn’t help but smile. “She never wanted to be buried. Wanted a cremation, or something surprising, though she never really specified. I wanna go see her tomorrow morning.”

“You can, but for now, try and get some rest.” Jesus assured him from his spot. “You’ll feel a little better in the morning,”

“Pfft, liar,” he muttered, and then Daryl gestured and then took the BTEs from Ethan’s ears, letting him go to sleep quietly against him.

Though, he didn’t get to sleep right away, could sense Jesus and Daryl in their spots, both reading books. They sometimes talked, soft spoken and weary for Ethan. He couldn’t really hear what they were saying but could feel the impressions of their voices on him, the conversations muffled but consistent, oddly comforting. Daryl felt warm and comforting against him. He reminded him of home, wherever or whatever home was.

When they shifted, he could feel the movements from his spot on the sofa, felt it reverberating through everything. Daryl soon left him on the sofa.

The lights went out and he tried to slip into some kind of sleep.

Even though he tried not to, he woke up on the verge of tears and his throat raw.

Someone was beside him, and in the darkness, he could only just make out their figure. Jesus. He’d been closest, on the floor near the sofa. Someone else, Daryl, lit a match and put it in the lantern. Ethan could feel himself sobbing, but he couldn’t hear it. Jesus held up his hands a little, he was close and made some little motion and then he was holding Ethan in his arms as he continued to sob and shake, a hand pressed over his mouth as good as he could do, wishing he could just forget everything.

Neither of the men said anything once Ethan had composed himself. His breaths probably sounded troubled, and pain was rising in his chest, but he didn’t say anything about it. He was glad he couldn’t hear himself, but the vibrations in his head were driving him insane.

He hated the silence as much as he was grateful for it.

Come morning, he was tired. The three hadn’t really slept all that much, and Jesus ended up staying up most of the night, there for when either Ethan or Daryl woke up from nightmares.

Jesus helped Ethan go and see his mother’s grave when the sun began to rise in the sky. “Right there,” the man said, helping Ethan sit down beside her grave. “Would you like me to stay?”

Ethan nodded, and Jesus sat beside him. His presence was welcome and calming.

So much had happened to Ethan, and he didn’t know how it all happened. He’d found people he begun to care about, and some he found he cared so deeply for that he knew he’d get hurt because of it. All he could do in that moment was stare at the grave that held his mother, wondering how different things could have been if she’d managed to get away with him and Eli. Maybe they would’ve gone to Alexandria as soon as they’d seen it again. Maybe they wouldn’t have and would’ve kept going no matter how far. There would’ve been another person to be on watch and Eli wouldn’t have been taken.

Eli wouldn’t be lost out there. He’d be with Ethan.

Things might have been different between him and Rick’s group when they’d first gotten to Alexandria. If his mom had been alive, things would have been just so different.

But they weren’t. Things were how they were, and he had no way to change that. So he had to get over it and move forwards with the cards he’d been dealt. He still had a baby brother to find, in whatever shape or form he was in. His main task of trying to find Eli had been pushed back again and again and again. But once the Saviors were gone, he’d go too. He needed to find Eli. But … he was also indebted to Maggie, because of Glenn. As much as he knew he owed his life to her, he wanted to find his brother. Maybe she’d let him go out and try and find Eli and come back and then help her with whatever she needed him for. Or maybe he’d just stay with her regardless. Eli was probably dead and if he saw Eli like that, Ethan wasn’t sure he’d manage the aftermath.

The sun rose higher and the people of Hilltop came alive again.

 

* * *

 

 

Enid was sat opposite Ethan, having found him and Jesus beside Min-seo’s grave. Jesus had left soon after Enid had arrived, saying something about needing to help the people of the community. The two teens hadn’t said anything at all, not since seeing each other again yesterday.

But that didn’t last long. “Did you see Carl?” she asked, and he could feel her eyes on him. He nodded once. “Is he alive?”

“Maybe. Negan took him back to Alexandria. But he humiliated Carl,” he said, looking up at Enid. “I don’t know if we can beat Negan, but there’s no doubt about it – we’re gonna fucking try.”

She was fiddling with her knife. “The Saviors will be coming soon. You got here a while after they left. But they’ll be here within a week’s time.”

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know what you want me to say. If I stay here, they’ll find me, if I go out there, I’m probably gonna get taken down by a walker. Lose-lose situation either way,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Did Carl tell you about that night?”

She inclined her head in a nod. “Your mom was the first one he … and how Glenn pushed you out of the way. I wish you’d both been OK.” She looked up at him. “I love you, man.”

“I love you too.” he said, smiling at her slightly. “You’re a jerk, but I love you,”

It was good to hear Enid laugh, even if it was watery and she had to clear her throat to help compose herself, quickly brushing the tears aside. “Yeah, right back at you.”

“Hey.” The two looked up and saw Maggie was there. She was looking better than she had that night, but still needed some time to recover. It made Ethan worry about how dead on his feet he looked. He didn’t want to think about the scars and scabs on his face making him look worse. “Ethan, I wanted to talk to you,” she began, sitting down beside him. “Glenn, he … he was a good man. He cared about you and wanted to look out for you as best he could. And I would too. I’m not angry at you and I don’t blame you for his death, same as I don’t blame Daryl. The only one who I do blame is that prick Negan,” she said, putting an arm around him when his eyes went glassy. “And I’m sorry that Negan put you through a lot of shit when he took you back. I wish I’d been well enough to try and go after you, but the baby was being a little dramatic, I think.”

Ethan sort of laughed. It sounded like a laugh. He wiped at his eyes, blinking in quick succession as he put his arm around Maggie as best he could. “My mom would’ve fucking loved you.” he told her, sniffling as he dried his face. “She would’ve. Bake you something good as well because she fucking cared about people,” he felt his finger scraping at the skin of his thumb and forced himself to stop. “I’m sorry about Glenn. As much as I wish he didn’t do it, I can’t change it. He saved my life and I’ll help make sure that baby of yours will stay alive.” Because then there would no way he would ever find Eli again, but that new baby needed all the protection it could get.

The three stayed by the graves for a little while longer. “Ethan, you ought to go to Carson, let him check your chest,” said Enid, pulling herself to a stand. “Here, let me help.” She moved around and carefully put her arms around him and lifted him up. “You’re not as heavy as you look.”

“Sorry to disappoint, I had to get some weight off my chest,” he said, turning to grin at her. Both she and Maggie laughed.

“Come on, idiot,” she said, beginning to lead him away. “You’re gonna be OK, Maggie?” she asked, turning to look back at the woman.

“I will,” she replied with a nod, hand going to readjust the hat on her head. The two teens nodded in return before they left her, Enid leading the way towards the medical trailer.

Enid knocked on the door before she entered, Ethan trailing in behind her. “You’re up more than what you should,” the doctor said with a look on his face that told the two that he didn’t expect anything less. “You’re going to stain yourself, so please be careful,” he said, then gestured to the bed and Ethan got on, with a little help from the two present.

“It looks like it’s healing up well,” the doctor said after he’d eased the wrappings from his chest. “It’s not pretty, and when it’s healed up, it certainly won’t look nice, or like a normal male chest.”

“That’s fine. Not like I have much else choice, right?”

The doctor sighed, rewrapping up Ethan’s chest after cleaning the areas that desperately needed it. When Ethan had first seen this Dr Carson, he’d put some sort of medical tape over the stitches, to try and ensure that they wouldn’t be strained as much or get pulled out accidentally. “It’s already healing pretty well, so within a few days you’ll need to take those stitches out. You’ll need some aspirin for the pain, and as long as you keep those bandages clean and don’t strain yourself, you’ll be better in no time.”

“Straining myself will be inevitable, you know the situation we’re in at the moment,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I’m gonna go back to Jesus’ trailer and rest,” he added, and the doctor nodded, speaking to Enid about something before she followed Ethan out of the medical trailer.

 

* * *

 

 

When he got back to the trailer, he let himself in, and was greeted with some tension. His eyebrows came together as he stepped inside, nudging the door shut swiftly with his foot. Ethan looked between the two men. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Daryl shook his head. “Nothin’,” he replied, shaking his head as he kicked his feet back up onto the chair in front of him. The two were a decent distance apart, but there was something in the air that made Ethan suspicious of them.

Ethan rolled his eyes and looked over at Jesus, who was looking at his book without reading the words. “OK, so from what I’m being shown here, either you two are mad at each other, or were about to fuck.”

That got the shocked reactions Ethan wanted. He smiled a little at them as he settled himself on the sofa back on his pillows, taking the book Daryl had been reading the previous night. He gave them a moment to compose themselves before he spoke up again. “You were totally gonna fuck. If you do, I recommend doing it when I’m nowhere fucking near you. I might be deaf, but I don’t need my ears to know that sex stinks and that makes it really obvious, so I do not want any more trauma.”

He had a faint idea that he was traumatising them with his words. But he was also having fun, if embarrassing himself a little along the way too. It was the most amusement he’d had in however long it had been since before the Saviors had arrived. Teasing them like this made everything seem … normal, or rather what normal would have been before the apocalypse.

“We-we weren’t –” Jesus stammered out a little, and Ethan supposed that was Paul actually speaking, and not his façade of _Jesus_.

“I’m not gonna judge. Just … spray some, like, Febreze or something like that after.” He looked between the two and saw them both getting redder and redder in the face. “You’re both blushing, so one of you was gonna get –”

Daryl threw a rolled-up magazine at him, hitting his thigh. It bounced off and landed on the floor beside where Ethan sat. “Nah, I ain’ hearin’ yeh say _that_ ,”

“But you let me complain that sex smells and that if you’re gonna fuck, you’re gonna at least try and mask the smell after?” He couldn’t help it if he smirked a little before he turned his attention onto the book he had in hand.

Ethan felt a fairly amused that the two men had been rendered speechless. He supposed that that didn’t happen often. He bit the inside of his mouth, hiding his amusement as he turned his attention to the book in hand. He flicked through the first few pages, trying to find where he’d last left off on the book. The embarrassment he felt from Daryl and Jesus radiating off them was astounding. He felt that it was worth it but supposed that the two would somehow get their payback; in whatever shape or form, Ethan wasn’t sure yet.

A few hours later, Ethan had fallen asleep.

The days steadily passed as Ethan and Daryl got used to living at the Hilltop. Every two days Ethan had to return to the doctor to see how he was healing up. He was steadily being able to use his arms more, lifting them up a little higher each day. It made getting up and getting around a little easier than when he was limited to looking like a T-Rex. Going to the toilet was also getting easier, needing the stool softeners less and less with each passing day. But it was awkward and meant awkward angles and longer amounts of time spent trying to clean himself up.

Most of the time, Ethan spent it around Enid, helping her when he could and giving a long narrative and little comments to make her smile and laugh. He liked making her laugh, it made things feel better, even though they knew that the inevitable was coming quite soon. He was worried what would happen when the Saviors arrived and he was still there. Maggie and the other adults probably had a plan. He reckoned he saw Sasha making an emergency exit on one of his walks around the perimeter.

The residents of Hilltop were nice to him and often too nice in the sense that they constantly checked if he was OK. Ethan wasn’t sure how he felt about it. They were always willing to give him a hand and help him around to places, and he wasn’t sure if they were just being overly sympathetic or just kind. It was probably the former.

But he was now stuck inside Jesus’ trailer, reading one of the other books the man had, trying to not pick at the scabs on his face. His face was healing, but it itched badly, but he didn’t want the scars to be worse. It surprised Ethan how many books Jesus’ trailer seemed to hold, but he enjoyed finding random ones beneath the bed, hidden under clothes, plates or in between the cushions of the sofa.

After Ethan’s comment on the two adults probably nearly having Ethan walk in on them having sex, it’s made things a little hilarious for Ethan, as he guessed he got to witness the two men guessing themselves and what their feelings where for each other. Maybe his first assumption on Daryl’s sexuality had been correct, but the man didn’t know it yet himself. Ethan could only guess and assume that he’d been in a repressive household growing up. He supposed he could relate to that.

But Ethan was quite observant – he had to be to make up for his lack of hearing after all. And he saw little moments between the two men. He sometimes saw them gazing at the other in a way that made Ethan’s stomach twist (in a good way) (he wondered if _Carl_ had ever looked at _him_ like that). He took note of how they were always close to each other, close enough for one of them to reach out to the other. Just in case one needed the other. They usually did, in some small way.

He wondered if they noticed what he did.

And then someone yelled, pulling him from his thoughts, and it sounded like Maggie. An awful lot like Maggie.

“Can you get up?” asked Jesus, looking at Ethan, putting down the book he’d had in hand, the title of it already forgotten. “From the sounds of things, it might be important.” Ethan nodded, tensing as he prepared himself. He’d not really moved all that much since he’d gone to see his mom’s grave earlier in the day.

Both Daryl and Jesus helped him to a stand, helped him pull on some clean flannel that used to be Jesus’ before it was needed by Ethan. Whenever Ethan stayed in Jesus’ trailer, he didn’t wear anything to cover the mess that was his upper body, wanting to feel the air on his skin. But whenever he left the trailer, he always put something on. People already had enough reason to stare at him. “Yeh good?” asked Daryl once the last button had been done. Ethan still felt a little weird on his feet but nodded. He could be good.

“Let’s see what the fuss is all about,” he said, letting the two help him out of the trailer and into the bright, burning sunlight. There was a commotion that couldn’t be ignored, but there was something in the air – happiness and excitement, and Ethan didn’t understand why it was there. It made him nervous, if a little giddy. Had something good finally fucking happened?

They rounded the corner and came to a stop. Ethan felt his breath get caught in his throat as he stared at some of the people he never thought he’d see again. The three edged closer to the group, and Ethan couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

A smile, genuine and bright, broke out on his face, especially when Rick embraced Daryl in a tight hug. He felt Jesus put his hand on his shoulder, and he spared him a glance and saw he was smiling too. He could barely believe that the man was there, let alone was embracing Daryl like that. Once Rick Grimes had let go of Daryl, after some quiet words, Rick came forwards and hugged Ethan close to his chest, successfully surprising the hell out of Ethan, who hugged him back as well as he could with his limited movement. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, surprised at the sentiment the man was showing him. He had still seen the shocked look on the man’s face. Ethan might’ve been recovering, but he still looked half-dead more often than not, he supposed the red scars and scabs on his face didn’t make things any better.

“You OK?” the man asked. Ethan was suddenly aware of how the man was shaking in his embrace, especially when he put his hand Ethan, on his neck and cheek. He could barely believe that _Rick Grimes_ had been worried about him and had hugged him in relief.

“Little battered and bruised, but it’s not the first time,” he said, then pulled away, only to be embraced by Michonne as Daryl handed Rick his gun that he’d taken from Fat Joey.

Michonne released him, but kept her hands on his face, eyes looking over his face. “What happened to you?” Her eyes were on the new scars on his face, all so red and very prominent that had yet to calm on his skin. It made him a little self-conscious.

Ethan felt his shoulders tense and he pulled away from her, trying to keep the smile on his face as the tears sprung to his eyes. Even though most of the shit was hidden, his lip was still a little bust, nose a little crooked and a blackeye that was healing up; not even to beginning to mention all those different scabs on his face, deep and long, thin and short, all effective in being there for the rest of his life, to turn into white scars that would clash against his skin colour. “Think-think you’re better off asking what didn’t,” he said, wiping at his face. “Short story – my dad and Negan,” he said, cutting it rather short as he ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fucked me up good.” He saw her horrified face, and all he could do was give her a meek smile. Her finger ran over the worst one on his face, and she shocked him when a tear or two slipped down her face.

But then someone pushed past Michonne and was hugging Ethan so tightly but so carefully it was hard to believe. But Ethan recognised the hair in his face, the body pressed against his and the warm skin pressed to his cheek. He hugged Carl back, hiding his face in the boy’s neck, wishing that things didn’t have to be the way they had been. It felt like his breath had been caught in his throat, and he could only squeeze the other boy in return, swaying a little in their embrace.

He almost lost himself in Carl’s hold; the safety and realness of it taking away any of the pain Ethan had been feeling prior, or maybe the drugs had decided to take action right as Carl had hugged him. Though he had to pull away from him, so he did, ignoring the looks the adults were giving them, even though they were understanding and sad and from the one Jesus gave Ethan, a little smug. There was always going to be payback for the sex comment, Ethan knew it; now the man had something to use against Ethan.

“I thought he was gonna kill you,” Carl began. It shocked Ethan to hear how unstable Carl sounded, how _scared_ he’d been for him. It wasn’t something Ethan had expected.

“Meh, if my dad can’t kill me, Negan can’t do shit.”

And then their group walked to Barrington house – presumably to yell at Gregory, or something similar. Ethan really wanted to yell at Gregory. The man was a massive bitch, in Ethan-terms.


	15. Royal Tigers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last update of the year! I hope you've had a nice 2018 and that 2019 will be even better.  
> Enjoy!

Gregory didn’t like anything they proposed, which didn’t come as a huge surprise. He suggested that their deal was to go off, and that they were to act as if they didn’t know each other, didn’t know that their communities existed, but it was all because the man was just a chicken shit. Ethan couldn’t understand how he was so scared to do something like that. He’d helped start something, so he had to help finish it.

Really, Ethan had been bubbling, ready for an outburst like this. He’d been inside his head for too long and Gregory was pushing him over the edge, pressing all the wrong buttons. “Listen, Gregory, you fucking idiot – we’d be better off _without_ the Saviors. We can work together to build up an army against theirs. You’re talking shit and that doesn’t bode well for you,” Ethan snapped, walking towards him. “If you fucking listen to someone who has expertise on the Saviors, we might beat them –”

“I’m not listening to no he-she,” the man interrupted, and Ethan felt his stomach leave him.

Rick was quick to grab Ethan and pull him away from the man when he saw the change in Ethan’s face. _“Call me that again and I will shove your head so far up your ass you’ll not know which way is up or down.”_ he snapped, slipping into his mother’s tongue out of pure rage. _“Fucking shit brain, you’d not be able to tell if a bird shit on your face, you’ve got your eyes closed that tight, you ignorant creepy old white guy.”_

He was not dealing with this prick. He could feel the surprise radiating off Rick because of his outburst, but that didn’t stop the man from pulling him away from him. And with Rick’s ironclad grip on him, he had to endure just the sheer amount of stupidity and ignorance that Gregory was fully capable of doing. He couldn’t even take off his hearing aids, having an inkling he’d do something stupid like throw them at Gregory. Maybe he’d somehow choke on one of them if Ethan was particularly lucky with his throw. However, from the looks of things, none of the others could stand to hear what he was saying, let alone try and persuade him of a better deal. So they were screwed when it came to Gregory, maybe screwed when it came to needing and getting help from the Hilltop. Ethan hoped that Rick and the others hadn’t thought that Gregory would be willing to help them and that they’d been smart enough to expand elsewhere in case Gregory chickened out.

Gregory was still hellbent on being a prick and kept denying the offers Rick’s group was giving him, which didn’t really surprise Ethan. But he was still furious at the man. He knew that the man didn’t like him and gave him weird, uncomfortable looks. He should’ve been aware that Gregory would’ve been transphobic. It was bound to happen eventually. It was going to be a thing that would happen and would never end, much like the racism he’d experienced.

“What was that?” asked Carl, coming to sit beside Ethan as the others went to cool down in one of the larger open areas of Barrington House. “I’ve never seen you that angry … or switch languages,” he said with a chuckle, pressing his shoulder against Ethan’s, smiling at him.

Ethan felt himself smile in return. “Guess he just got to me. My mom taught me Korean because hello.” He waved at his face as a general answer, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards for a millisecond. “The shit with the Saviors and then this _bitch_ … I just lost it a little. Even if I can’t move my arms all that well, my legs and feet work just fine, which Dwight can fucking vouch for,” he said, earning a chuckle from Carl.

“I thought you were dead,” said Carl, like he couldn’t believe he’d thought such a thing. He was turned in Ethan’s direction, but wasn’t looking at him, like he couldn’t look at him as he said those things. “The Saviors had your flannel on a walker, I recognised it, because you’d stolen it from me when you first came to Alexandria.” Ethan hadn’t realised he’d kept those clothes of Carl’s. He didn’t know where they were any more. “It scared me so much. Made me realise how deep this shit is that we’re in with the Saviors. And then when I saw you in there … you looked about five minutes away from dying on the spot, and it terrified me. Didn’t want you to die, let alone in a place like that.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched slightly. “’M not gonna die, not yet anyway, I’m too stubborn.” he said, resting his head on Carl’s shoulder a little, and he felt the tension in Carl diminish a little. “Promise. We’re in this shit with the Saviors, but we’re in it together, which is better than going through it alone. Help me up?”

He did. “Hey,” he said, the word so quiet Ethan only just heard him. “I wanted to do something earlier when I saw you, but I was too nervous to do it, and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable in front of the others,” he said, glancing around. It was just the two of them. And then Ethan caught on to what he was saying. It took him less than a second to realise.

“You sure? I mean my face is a little more fucked up than before,” he said, mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. Carl took hold of Ethan’s hand, fingers slipping through his, his skin so warm.

“You’re talking to the guy who’s missing an eye. You’re still pretty boy to me,”

It made him smile. “You’re pretty boy.” said Ethan, and then he looked around himself before he leaned in and pressed his mouth against Carl’s. He pulled away a second or two after, feeling his cheeks redden. “C’mon, or else everyone will think we’re fucking or something,”

It made Carl blush way more than Ethan, so that was worth it.

“What happened to you?” the boy asked as they started walking, hands still together. Ethan glanced over at him, trying to smile, but found that it didn’t quite work.

“You don’t wanna know,” he said, huffing a wet laugh. “Really, you don’t.”

The two made their way down to where the others were and saw them in a conversation, though the layers of sounds overlapping made it impossible for Ethan to get the gist of what was being said. But Ethan did hear Maggie mention Enid, and she appeared not a second after her name being spoken. To Ethan’s surprise, Enid led their group to just outside of the house. Outside, there were Hilltop people willing to fight alongside them against the Saviors. Ethan saw the smile Carl gave Enid and rolled his eyes. Teenagers.

“It’s a start, we’ll get more,” said Michonne as their group walked from Barrington. The mood from everyone seemed displeased to some extent, but Ethan could see where Michonne was coming from. They had to start from somewhere, and the fact that some of the people of Hilltop were willing to fight helped that little bit more.

“It still won’t be enough,” said Sasha, and then everyone’s voices were overlapping and annoying Ethan. There were arguments that it wasn’t enough, but Ethan thought that all things considered, the fact that people were willing to fight the Saviors after all the shit that they pulled on the people of the community was a good enough starting point. It was good that these people were willing to fight, as it made the fight against the Saviors stronger than if they’d been alone.

They had to play the game right, and neither Ethan or these communities had done so yet.

And then Jesus came up with a solution – the long-range radio he’d stolen from the Saviors, and a new safe haven for Daryl and Ethan. Or so Ethan hoped, since he knew staying at the Hilltop was a terrible idea. “I think it’s time I introduced you to Ezekiel. _King_ Ezekiel.”

Ethan scoffed. “Fuck off, now there’s a _king_. What next, another Asian guy? Ha!” Ethan said, rolling his eyes, but the amusement from the others was worth it.

The drive there was long and boring, and painful on Ethan’s part. He tried to ignore it, but the burning in his chest was near enough impossible to ignore.

“Hey,” said Michonne, tapping Ethan on the shoulder. He looked at her and she was holding out some aspirin and water. “You’re looking a little rough,”

He snorted a little. “I mean, getting something cut off and not being properly treated will make you look a little rough,” he said, though nodded his head in thanks to her as he accepted the water and drugs, taking them quickly. He shifted in his spot and rested his head on Carl’s shoulder, feet pulled up onto the seat. In the little gap between their legs, hidden from view, Carl took Ethan’s hand in his.

“Does it hurt?” Ethan looked over at Tara and saw she was staring at him. “Like, how much did it hurt when it happened? How badly does it hurt now?”

He shrugged. “Drugged me so that I wasn’t awake during the surgery. I was unconscious after the first few days, dunno how long. Still really hurt. I can’t really explain it. But it feels weird. It’s not as bad as before, least I can actually move my arms now,”

“You couldn’t move your arms?”

Ethan lifted a shoulder meekly. “Well, no. Where he cut, it goes all the way over my chest,” he drew a finger over where the incisions had been made, “and since moving your arms requires movement from your chest area, it kinda made it impossible to lift them up. I looked like a fuckin’ T-Rex,”

“Can I ask you something?” the woman asked. “It’s probably a bit personal,”

“Nothing of mine has ever been personal anyway. Ask away,”

Tara’s mouth twitched, like she was a little uncomfortable with what she was about to say. “Are you glad that it happened? I mean, I know you’re a guy, but like, having girl stuff is gotta be difficult,”

He pressed his lips together as his eyebrows came together. “I guess. I wanted something to happen, just not as painful or dangerous as what _did_ happen. I can’t have kids anyway because I had a hysterectomy when I was younger. Don’t get periods because there’s nothing really there,”

“You had to get a hysterectomy?” asked Michonne, who had been pretending to not be eavesdropping on the conversation, despite Ethan and Tara being the only two talking.

Carl shifted beside him, tightening his grip on his hand. Ethan was aware that everyone else was listening in on their conversation. “Those uterine fibroids you told me about,” he said.

“How the hell could you remember I told you that?” asked Ethan, frowning as he looked at the other boy. Carl shrugged and turned his gaze out of the window, but Ethan could practically feel the heating coming off him in waves. He’d told Carl about that when he’d been shot by Jessie, the day Carl lost his eye. He didn’t have many – if any – of his memories from that day, all of it just a giant haze.

“Can’t those become cancerous?” Jesus asked.

Ethan shook his head. “Rarely. They don’t risk you getting other forms of cancer.”

The silence soon followed, and other people occasionally spoke up, Jesus informing them of where to go, directing the driver. Hidden away, Carl was tapping a rhythm onto the skin of Ethan’s hand. Ethan knew that the others were observant, so assumed that they’d caught on to their handholding, but didn’t have it in him to care. He knew that they wouldn’t give either of them shit for it, but if someone mentioned it, he was sure that he might burst into flames.

They eventually came to a stop and others began to get out of the car as Jesus spoke with Daryl and Rick. Ethan couldn’t hear them but was glad that the drugs Michonne had given him were finally easing away the pain in his chest.

They didn’t have to wait long when they got to the Kingdom as two people on horses appeared. One of them, the older man, Ethan immediately disliked, just based on his appearance. “Did Jesus call him Richard?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Tara as they exited the car.

“Hmm. His name suits him. Fucking looks like a dick too.” Beside him, Carl and Tara snorted.

The man made them line up. Ethan couldn’t believe the bullshit that was these two people. They handed over their two measly guns. It was a pitiful sight. Ethan could remember when Rick’s group had what felt like millions of guns, but now they only had two.

And then they had to follow them on a long trek to the Kingdom.

“Should you be walking?” asked Michonne, looking over at Ethan. He shrugged. She glanced over at the horses that the people from the Kingdom had come on.

“No. I am not getting on a horse.” he said adamantly, shaking his head. “My legs work fine.”

The ginger guy, Ethan didn’t know his name, looked at the two. “You need to get on the horse?”

“No. I can walk just fine,”

The idea of having to get on the horse made him feel weird and sad. He didn’t want to; he knew he could walk.

“If you’re struggling, I can let you on –”

Ethan rubbed at his chest, massaging where the scarring was. It was itchy. “I’m fine. My chest just hurts a bit.”

The man gave Ethan a weird, curious look, but nodded and turned back to look at the road. Ethan glanced over at Carl who had presumably heard the entire thing and signed ‘oh my god’ at him. The corner of Carl’s mouth twitched upwards in a smile before it faded.

They continued to walk, and Ethan was aware of how Jesus and Daryl were close to him, within his reach in case he needed them. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. As much as he was glad that they were there, he wished Aaron and Eric were there too. But they’d been helping him ever since he’d escaped from the Sanctuary, and his trust in them had grown with each passing day.

He was curious about the two. They spent a lot of time together and were often joined at the hip more often than not. Ethan wasn’t sure what was going on between the two of them but knew that it was their thing and not his business. Maybe Daryl was gay. Or bi. Or it was just for Paul. Ethan struggled to recall when Daryl ever actually called the man Jesus as he remembered him always calling him by his real name. Maybe that was also their thing.

“Ethan?” Michonne asked, nudging his shoulder. “Is it alright if I ask you something?”

“What is this, twenty questions? Sure, go ahead,”

Michonne’s expression changed and he knew it’d be something personal. “Would you have wanted kids? Or to have them?”

Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. “If I didn’t have the hysterectomy and I got pregnant, I’d either get an abortion or kill myself,” he said honestly. He saw the worry in Michonne’s eyes, and tried to give her a smile, but it felt too sad. “If something was alive inside me, I wouldn’t be able to deal with the mental toll, so I’d either kill it, or kill myself.” He dug his nails into the skin of his cheeks, not quite sure when his hands got close to his face, trying to ground himself before he let his hands drop to his sides. Michonne held one of his hands. “I’m glad I can’t. Means that if shit happens to me, I’ll not have a growing reminder that I’m trans,”

He saw the tears before the woman wiped them away. “You’d kill yourself?”

“I’ll never have hormones that I should have. My body is going to keep changing in the wrong way. My chest is fucked, but there’s always the possibility that those … things will still grow back because the creepy Carson doc might’ve done it wrong. It’s all a little too much sometimes on my head. Sometimes I wanna, but my brother’s out there. At this point all I want is an answer of if he’s alive or not,”

She looked like she wasn’t looking forward to her next question. “And when you get your answer?”

Ethan shrugged, wiping at where the tears had fallen a little with his free hand. “If he’s alive, then I’m not gonna let him go again. If he’s dead, my main reason is kinda gone. Let’s hope he’s still kicking around here somewhere.”

“Yeh’ve got us,” said Daryl, coming up to Ethan’s other side.

Ethan pressed his lips together, then looked at Daryl. “Maybe so, but for as long as I could remember, the point of me being here was to look out for Eli. Never feels right when he’s not there with me because he always stuck to my side. You’d think we were conjoined or something. But if Eli’s dead, then honestly, I wouldn’t care what the fuck the Saviors would do to me because losing Eli is the worst. I took my eyes off him and now he’s gone. For all I know, he could be a walker, or he could’ve been torn to pieces months ago,”

Oh, fuck, he hadn’t seen Eli in _months_. Ethan’s stomach twisted painfully, and he tried to ignore it. “I grew up looking out for him because of Jason.” He scratched his nose a little and looked at Daryl. “Eli, he looks exactly like Omma. Hair, eyes, skin colour. Doesn’t look like Jason at all. Which is a good thing. He doesn’t have any physical aspect to remind himself of that shithead. But, y’know, if he turns up dead the one time I failed him, I dunno how I’d take it. Or if I’d even manage to try and cope.”

Ethan was aware of the looks everyone else was giving him, how he’d just revealed that part of himself. He wished he hadn’t, wished he’d kept it silent because now he’d be treated differently. Daryl put his arm around him, pulling him into his side a little roughly. His hand on Ethan’s arm was warm and reassuring, comforting him. But all Ethan wanted was Eli.

“We’re coming up to the Kingdom now,” said the ginger man, who Ethan found out was named Daniel. He led them through the gates, which had been opened by the people already on the wall, and Ethan found that the Kingdom was far bigger than what he had first anticipated.

The man got off his horse and someone led the animals away. Richard and Daniel then led them through the community. Ethan was aware of the looks the residents were giving them, and it made him feel uncomfortable. He kind of wished he wasn’t there, but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t have a choice on the matter anyway. If things were going to go the way Jesus hoped, Ethan would have to get used to the people in the Kingdom.

As they walked around inside, Ethan saw the hopeful look on Rick’s face, that they could beat the Saviors. After reuniting with Morgan, they were to seen the king. They went ahead whilst Morgan and Daryl and Rick spoke, and Ethan felt a little odd without Daryl by his side. Jesus led the way into what must’ve been the main building. There was writing on the wall, and Ethan realised it was like stuff out of the bible (though having never read the Bible, or been a religious person, he didn’t know what the term was).

They followed Jesus inside, Rick and Daryl having caught up to them in their short trek to the building, and Ethan was only just aware that they were in a theatre of sorts but was distracted by what was on the stage. Ethan felt himself laugh, lips stretching in a smile. He nudged Daryl in the ribs, nose scrunching up as he pointed at it.

“Holy fuck a tiger. I am in love,” said Ethan, staring at the tiger, jaw to the floor. He looked at Carl who was on his other side. “I want one. Or twenty. Or an army. We have an army of tigers and the Saviors lose. I want her.” Carl smiled, shaking his head, but his eyes stayed on the tiger.

The sudden revelation of King Ezekiel was just so _hilarious_ to Ethan that he couldn’t help but smirk a little. He half expected himself to wake up, the whole thing just a peculiar dream. Jesus was a little ahead of their group, close enough to talk to the King. “Jesus! It pleases me to see you, old friend,”

One of the men on the stage grinned, and Ethan felt his mouth tug upwards even though he was trying to keep himself composed. “It pleases him indeed!”

How did this man have a tiger? How had he kept her alive all this time? Wouldn’t she have a large intake on the supplies at the Kingdom? Ethan had so many questions about the tiger but supposed that if he was lucky and stayed behind at the Kingdom, then he’d have all his questions answered about the beautiful tiger several feet in front of him.

“Jerry.” Ezekiel said sternly with a slight incline of his head towards the man.

Ethan wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole thing. Just four words and Ethan already liked Jerry and seeing the tiger was enough to make him a little loopy. How had this suddenly become a part of his life? But the king was still talking, and he had to try his best to keep his attention on the man. He had a deep, booming voice, so his words were picked up on his hearing aids a little easier. “Tell me, what news do you bring good King Ezekiel? Are these new allies you’ve brought me?”

“Indeed they are, Your Majesty,” said Jesus, turning to look at them. “This is … oh, right I forgot to mention …”

Rick nodded. “The tiger.”

“This is Rick Grimes, the leader of Alexandria, and these are some of his people,” said Jesus as they all spilled out into the theatre. Ethan sat down on one of the seats, back hurting as much as his chest. Carl was in the row behind him but kept a steady hand on his shoulder, standing right behind him. His grip on Ethan’s shoulder was comforting, letting him know that he was right there for him.

Rick told the king about everything that had happened with the Saviors, which from the looks of things, probably wasn’t the best thing to do, even though it was needed to be said. King Ezekiel didn’t appear happy that Jesus had told them about the Kingdom’s problem with the Saviors. The king didn’t look very happy. They told them of the people who had died and how Ethan and Daryl had escaped from the Saviors.

“Negan murdered Glenn and Abraham, to make a point,” said Rick, and Michonne and Jesus begun talking after him, their words falling just short of Ethan’s ears.

The men on the stage were talking, but Ethan couldn’t hear a thing. Everyone was talking so damn quietly. But then Rick said Ethan’s name and he looked up. “Can you tell everyone what happened to you? Please? I know it must be hard for you to talk about.”

Ethan scoffed. It felt like today was the day he exposed all the bad shit that happened to him. So he decided that he might as well go full out. “What part? The part where Negan … where he made this fucking prick give me food for dogs, near enough starved me to death. Where-where he let my dad beat the shit out of me, let him take a knife to me because I’m a guy but he knew me as a girl and he gets so mad at me all the time, so fuck you, right? Or-or are we talking about the part where they-they made me undergo surgery with people watching without-without my consent and they _saw_ parts of me that I can barely stand to see because it’s wrong. And it used to be a physical part of me until they made someone cut it off even though I screamed and cried for it not to happen because it was wrong and would hurt and there were people there who I didn’t know or trust or any-fucking-thing. But, y’know, they still drugged me and cut me open and revealed parts of my body that I never wanted anyone to see.” He sniffed and looked to the side for a moment before he turned back to look at Ezekiel, who was staring at Ethan unblinkingly. Even the tiger seemed to have stilled at his words. “I don’t know what you’re asking of me, why I need to share this, but … man, it sucks. And it’ll get worse for others too, because we need to get rid of the Saviors.”

He heaved himself up with a bit of strain and walked towards the front, beside Rick, where he unbuttoned the flannel and opened it enough so that they could see the bandages on his chest and the visible scars on his body, all so angry and prominent and forever. He tried not to think about Jason. The scars on his face maybe wouldn’t persuade the king as much as the ones on his chest. “I’m only what, sixteen, seventeen? Whatever. Negan let this happen to me. I could’ve been hurt worse, he could’ve fucking put a red-hot iron to my face and fucked me up even more. I guess I gotta count myself lucky, right?” he asked, voice higher than what he wished it was. “The Saviors will not just fucking _leave_. They’re gonna take more and do more until there’s nothing but a pile of shit left behind. But you’ve gotta be smart about this shit or else everyone is gonna be fucked. And d’you know what? I haven’t even scratched the surface.”

Rick put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, the surprise evident on his face even though he tried so hard to hide it. “We can’t let these people hurt our kids, hurt anyone else like what Ethan just described,”

There was a pause, and then, “The hour grows late, Rick Grimes of Alexandria, you have given the king much to ponder,” said Ezekiel.

And then Ethan took out his hearing aids and Michonne stepped up and put an arm around him. ‘Button it up?’ she signed. He shook his head, not really seeing the point in anything anymore. His excitement about seeing a tiger had long since vanished. He could feel Rick talking on his other side, but his words didn’t matter to him. How could this leader not see that action needed to be taken against the Saviors? That they could join their communities and lead an army against them?

 

* * *

 

 

They were to stay the night in the Kingdom.

Ethan stayed in his bed that Daryl and Jesus had helped make, using the bedding to make it like a sort of chair for him, Jesus having read up a little on things about trans people and surgeries. It was subtle, but Ethan felt like Jesus was hiding something about himself, but since it wasn’t any of Ethan’s business, he let it go. The man knew he could trust Ethan, after all their talks and seeing Ethan’s breakdown and mourning. He’d helped him shower, so knew Ethan would listen if he needed someone to (even if Ethan was terrible at hearing).

“You comfy?” he asked after Daryl had gone to the room the two men would be sharing together. He nodded. “Good. I’ll just be next door and Carl’s sharing the room with you.” he said, then left not long after, just before Carl returned.

“How’s your chest?” he asked, sitting on the bed opposite him. Ethan’s bed was on the left side of the room, and Carl’s on the right.

“A bitch,” he said, then there was a beat of silence. “I know you wanna ask about what I said earlier. It’s true. All of it,” he felt himself shudder. “I forgot how bad it really was with my dad, the … _intensity_ he brings with himself. Wish I’d killed him when I was younger, when I had the chance. But it’s whatever now, right?”

Carl sighed, coming to sit next to him. “Do you think you’d be able to do it? Kill your dad?” he asked.

In all honesty, Ethan wasn’t sure. “Maybe. Maybe not. He’s still my dad, y’know?” he shifted in his spot. “He’s fucked me up a lot, but I don’t wanna do it unless I have no choice. I just … living as who I am now, that’s torn whatever redemption could’ve been made for whatever our relationship is,” he said, then heaved himself up, shoulder bumping into Carl’s. “If it came down to it, I’d rather let him die than any of you, of our group, because you all mean more to me than what he ever could.” He let out a shaky breath and look up at Carl, eyes on his sole one. “Pretty boy, I have a question,”

“Shoot,”

“Is it bad that I’d rather have Aaron and Eric as my parents? That I would kill for them without a second thought? They … they were some of the first people I really started to care about,”

“It’s not bad. I promise you, pretty boy, it’s not,” said Carl, resting his forehead against Ethan’s. “Who else do you really care about?”

Ethan’s mouth ran dry. “Enid, she – she was my first friend. And Daryl too, he’s like another parental figure, he’s always been there for me. Then there’s your sister, your dad, Michonne, Jesus or Paul, whatever the fuck he’s called … Glenn and Maggie and Sasha and everyone else. And you.” He shut his eyes, resting his hands upon Carl’s shoulders, because he didn’t think his arms would let them go any higher. “And there’s you – you you _you_. Sometimes it feels like it’s just you and that’s fine because you’re pretty boy and maybe even mine as much as I’d like to be yours,” he said, barely believing he’d just said all those words out loud.

Silently, Carl moved one of Ethan’s hands to rest over his heart. “Pretty boy, I, I would like to kiss you,”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” he said, and then Carl tilted his head up just that little bit and then they were kissing, soft and curious and maybe a little scared too, because emotions were weird and strong and powerful, but they _got it_.

Neither of them pushed anything, even when they felt like they wanted to, when they felt like they were losing their heads and floating in space just together, just the two of them, they didn’t do anything more than what they were doing. Just kissing.

“I don’t want to leave you,” said Carl, voice barely being picked up, despite how close they were. “Either you stay here, or you go somewhere else to hide, and all I want is for you to stay with me,”

“I can’t ask you to stay with me here either. You’ve got Judith and your dad,” Ethan replied, lips brushing against Carl’s as he spoke. Ethan couldn’t find it in himself to move further away from Carl, wanting to be as close as possible. “Now can do?”

Carl chuckled. “Yes it can. And then so can the next moment when it begins,” he said. “You should sleep,”

“So should you,” Ethan retorted. The other boy huffed a laugh, kissed Ethan again before he moved away.

“Can I stay with you?” he asked, glancing at how Ethan’s bed was set up. “I’m not sure how, but could I?” Ethan nodded.

They kicked off their boots and Carl pulled the blanket off as the two settled themselves down. Ethan ended up on his back while Carl pressed himself against the boy’s side, arm carefully beneath where the scarring was. The stitches had been removed a day or two prior, and so now it just needed to heal up on its own. With all things considered, his chest hadn’t been as fucked up as he thought. Ethan put his hand on Carl’s forearm, and the boy rested his head on Ethan’s shoulder.

“This isn’t hurting you, is it?” he asked, the concern laced in Carl’s voice. Ethan shook his head. The lantern was flickering brightly, but neither moved to turn it off.  Carl’s arm shifted and moved over a thicker scar on Ethan’s belly. Ethan felt him tense up and then the boy was sitting up, concern in his face. “Did your dad –?”

Ethan shrugged. “He’s not really my dad. Aaron and Eric and even Daryl are my dads now. They’ve done more for me than he ever did. But yeah, he did that.” Ethan bit his lip, then his fingers went to the buttons of the flannel he was wearing.

“W-what’re you doing?” Carl asked, putting his hands over Ethan’s.

He looked up at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Dude, I’m not stripping for you, I just want to show you what he did. What did you think I was going to do?”

The speed in which Carl’s face grew red had Ethan smirking as the last of the buttons were undone. He looked up at Carl, who shifted slightly so that he could sit in front of Ethan, both of them cross-legged, and then Carl helped him remove the item of clothing. Once he’d taken it off, he held it to just where his bellybutton was. He was a little self-conscious of his belly whenever he sat down. Carl had seen his belly before, so he knew that it was OK.

Carl was staring. It was something that Ethan had expected. “Who – who else has seen what that prick did to you?”

Ethan frowned. “Both Carsons. Jason himself. Daryl and Jesus since they had to help me shower and stuff like that. Dwight, I think. Maybe Negan, and now you,” he said, voice a little shaky. He looked up at Carl and saw him staring at his face. “And the scars on my face were bad enough.”

Something Ethan hadn’t anticipated was for Carl to cry. “Hey, it’s OK,” he started, but Carl shook his head, pressing his forehead against Ethan’s.

“It’s not OK. I promised you. I said twice that I wouldn’t let them hurt you. And I lied.” Carl’s voice was uneven. He sniffled, hands going onto either side of Ethan’s head, fingers in his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

And then Carl collapsed into his arms, trying to quieten his sobs so that their neighbours wouldn’t hear them. “Carl, it’s not your fault,” said Ethan, suddenly close to tears, the stinging in his eyes blinding him. He ran his hair through Carl’s long hair, pressing his face into the long locks. His other arm went around the boy’s back as he kissed his head. “You couldn’t have known. There was no way for you to know that all of that would go down. And it’s alright that you didn’t know. We’re just kids, right?”

Carl laughed, but it sounded too sad. “I promised you,”

“So let me promise you something,” he interrupted. Carl’s body stilled, and he tilted his head a little, but his remaining eye was still hidden, that side of his face hidden away against Ethan’s neck, under his jaw. “I promise you that it was not your fault. I promise you that it’s alright that you couldn’t protect me because there was no way you could do that and get us both out alive.”

“I … I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Carl said after a moment’s pause. “I missed you so goddamn much and I didn’t know what to do. You – you’re a big part of my life now, and then when Negan had you taken away, I didn’t know what I was going to do because you’re more than my best friend and more than a boyfriend to me.” Ethan’s stomach did a hard flip inside him, crashing up against his lungs. “And I-I-I-I felt so _lost_ and it was all because you’d been taken out of my life. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I actually lost you for good,”

“Carl …”

“And then when we went to Hilltop, all I thought I’d see would be Enid, and then I’d have to tell her that I failed and didn’t get you out. The only reason she was at Hilltop to begin with was because she’d gone with me there, the day I’d ended up at the Sanctuary. She knew I was going to go after them and she knew that there was the possibility of me seeing you. And then I saw you in there, and you looked like you were dying, and you couldn’t move your arms and it scared me _so much_ –”

Ethan pulled away a little so that Carl would sit up. He did. “Carl, you’re not to blame.”

He shook his head, smiling a sad smile as he wiped at the tears. “But it is. I could’ve tried to persuade Negan to let you come back to Alexandria with me or done something – killed him – but I didn’t. And you still got hurt.”

“Sherry helped me leave that day – me, Daryl and Jesus, we got out of there. Might’ve thrown up on the way back, but I got out. I’m here.” He took Carl’s right hand and pressed it over his heart. It was beating erratically against his chest, the blood pumping so loudly in Ethan’s ears. “I’m right here. Doesn’t matter what happened in the past. I’m here and you’re here.”

“But you still got hurt, and I hadn’t been there in time to stop it.”

Ethan sighed, his grip on Carl’s hand tightening a little. “Listen to me Carl. There was no way in hell that you’d figure out how to get there before that shit happened. There was no way you’d have been able to get me out. All of that shit happened, and you can’t beat yourself over it, especially since you couldn’t control anything that happened then. We’re OK and we’re here together.”

There was a brief pause as Carl sniffled a little and dried his tears. “I don’t know what I’d do if you died,” he admitted. "I heard you talking to Michonne, and I don't want you to die,"

“I get sad. It happens. Don't worry about me. Tell me, would you go looking for Eli?” asked Ethan, tilting his head to the side so that he could catch Carl’s eye. “Say, I died before I found Eli – would you try and find him for me?”

The boy opposite him took in a shuddering breath. “Ethan, I would do anything for you.”

Ethan wasn’t sure if that was good or not. “And … if I died after I’d found Eli, I know you and Daryl and Jesus and Aaron and Eric and everyone else would care for him for me. But say I found him, and he was a walker or worse, and he wasn’t alive … I’d want you to try and live on without me. I know things are different now that we’re in each other’s lives. Things are different now that Jesus is in our lives, that Maggie’s having a baby. Everything is constantly changing. You’d be able to change without me there.”

“And if I died and you were left alone?” asked Carl, looking like he was going to start crying again. “What would you do?”

Ethan wasn’t sure. “I’d cry. Get mad and maybe scream and try and help your dad and Judith and Michonne and everyone else try and deal without you there. I’d try and keep your memory alive. Maybe wear your hat a bit?”

Carl laughed a little, reaching over to get it. “You’re allowed to wear the hat if you’ve been shot. You’re a part of the club, have been for a while,” he said, then put it on Ethan’s head. It had already shaped to Carl’s head, so didn’t fit Ethan’s head quite right.

“We’re gonna be part of the tired-in-the-morning-club if we don’t go to sleep soon.”

“But every second that I’m not awake with you, it’s like I’m missing you,” said Carl. Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. That was so cheesy, and maybe a little cringey.

But he still smiled (because how couldn’t he?) and took the hat off. “I’m gonna be by your side tonight, so you’re not going to be missing me. And in the morning, when you wake up, I’ll still be there. We have our moments when we can. But now, we should rest. Who knows what’ll happen in the morning.” He laid back down and Carl crawled over and laid beside him, the two of them getting back into the way they had been before. Carl put his arm over Ethan, below where the scarring and bandages were, but soon started to trace over the other marks on Ethan’s skin.

“I’m really glad I met you,” said Carl, the words barely getting picked up on the BTEs. Ethan supposed he’d have to try and look for some new ones and hope he could get them to work like the ones he had now.

“Are you glad that I throat-punched you?” he asked, because he couldn’t resist it.

Carl chuckled. “Yes. The best decision you ever made. Hurt like a bitch at the time, but yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning there were people running in groups to keep fit, and others, kids, were learning how to shoot a bow and arrow. Ethan could feel his body want to use one again, but his chest stopped him from doing it. He wasn’t quite healed up to use a bow and some arrows again. Maybe later, if he was lucky. Ezekiel talked of wanting to expand and how he was torn over whether he should let his people go with their to attack the Saviors. It didn’t look like things were going well. Ethan wondered why the hell they’d even spent the night when it had been clear the previous day that Ezekiel didn’t want to join the fight against the Saviors.

“Yeh call yerself a king, yeh sure as hell don’ act like one,”

Ezekiel walked closer to Daryl, but whatever he said, Ethan couldn’t hear it from the distance they were at. But the king soon finished and turned and used what Ethan thought was his King Voice, talking like it was ye olde times. “Although the Kingdom cannot grant you the aid you desire, the King is sympathetic to your plight. I offer our friends Daryl and Ethan asylum for as long as they require it.” Which made sense, because from what Ethan had heard, the Saviors never came inside the Kingdom, and therefore wouldn’t know that he or Daryl were actually there. “They will be safe here.”

But Ethan was also a little pessimistic. “How long do you think that’s gonna last, though?” he asked, and caught the unsure and almost nervous look Ezekiel had on his face. Daryl walked off and then Rick went after him, and soon the whole group did.

Jesus walked beside Ethan. “You’ll be safe here,” he said, offering a smile in his way. “You could always ask Rick for Carl to stay here with you,”

He felt his face go so red. “What, just like how you’d want to stay here with Daryl?” he asked, grinning when Jesus’ face went as red as Ethan’s. “Was that payback for the sex stuff?”

“That was just the beginning,”

“Fucking loser,”

Jesus chuckled, ruffling Ethan’s hair. “I should thank you,” he said, and Ethan made a choking noise, signing ‘oh my god’. “Even in perilous times, unbelievable things happen.”

Ethan could barley believe what he was hearing. “I was right? He’s actually gay?” Jesus nodded, and Ethan grinned, barely holding back on fist pumping. “I fucking knew it. Wait. So you – actually, I don’t wanna know. Hope you used Febreze after, you gross bastard,” he said, but found that he couldn’t stop smiling.

To say that he was happy for the two was an understatement. Ethan could barely believe that Jesus was saying that. “But … he’s gonna be stuck here,”

“So are you,” Jesus retorted, shrugging a shoulder. “As long as you and Daryl are safe, then that’s all that matters.” Then he leaned down a little, mouth close to Ethan’s ear. “He’s walking a little bow-legged.”

Ethan choked a little. He looked at Jesus who was grinning beneath his beard. “You are quite frankly the worst, you disgusting jerk!” he exclaimed, shoving his arm. “Aw, no. You were in the bedroom next to mine,” his nose wrinkled up. “I have mental images I’d prefer not to have right now. Thanks. You’re a real saint, living up to your name, right?”

“You’re taking it better than I expected.” Jesus admitted.

“Oh, I’m trying to think of something else to call you because I can barely call you a motherfucker. Dadfucker?” Ethan tried not to smile, but it was adamant on trying. “You’re a fatherfucker,”

Jesus frowned a little, before catching on to what Ethan wasn’t saying, but smiled at what he was clearly saying. “You’re good for each other. I think staying here together will do something good for the pair of you,”

The jokey atmosphere was fading away as the seriousness of their situation came back to light. “Yeah. But you’ve only just made this thing with him and you’re going,”

“These things happen. When this war is over, maybe he and I will settle down a little.”

Ethan scoffed. “Abraham knew,” he said quietly, shaking his head. He caught the confused look on Jesus’ face. “The day you brought us to the Hilltop, he asked Daryl if he ever thought of settling down. I guess he had an inkling as to what might’ve – and has – become between you two.”

Their conversation was cut short. They’d made it to the gate.

“Hey, open it up, we’re goin’,” said Daryl, coming to a stand beside Ethan and Jesus, apparently unaware of what the two had been talking about. The men on the gate were quick to open it up for them.

“You’re not,” said Rick, stopping Ethan and Daryl.

“I ain’ stayin’ here,” the man said, shaking his head, hand going to Ethan’s shoulder.

Ethan looked at the two. “We gotta. It’s a smart play that’ll last as long as it needs to. When the Saviors come in here, this place is big enough for us to hide or get the fuck outta it without them knowing we were ever here,” he said, then looked down. “And besides, they’ve got doctors – _plural_ – and maybe one of them can help with my fucked up chest because they might actually have learnt about it properly?”

Even though Daryl looked like he wanted to argue about it, that he didn’t want to stay, something in Ethan’s expression made him relent. “Alrigh’,”

“Try to talk to Ezekiel,” Rick said to Daryl, hand going to his friend’s chest. “Or stare him into submission, do whatever it takes. We’ll be back soon.”

Ethan and Daryl stood beside each other as the gates of the Kingdom shut, cutting off Rick from them, and Ethan saw the sad look on Carl’s face before he turned away.

He turned to look at Daryl, already smirking at what he was going to say. “So … was Jesus a pain in the ass last night?”

“I hate you,” said Daryl, shaking his head in disdain.

“I love you too,” Ethan replied, letting Daryl put his arm around him, leading him back deeper into the community.

He still felt Daryl’s arm tense up a little. “Daryl?” he asked, looking over at him. Ethan had gotten a little taller and was still taller than Carl (they’d been having a little argument earlier that morning about who was taller before Michonne ended it).

“Do yeh?” the man asked. Ethan frowned. “Do yeh love me?”

Ethan nodded. “Of course I do,” he said. “Like how I love Aaron and Eric. I love you.”


	16. Kingdom Come

Ethan found that life was different in the Kingdom than what it was in the Hilltop or Alexandria. He couldn’t quite get it, but it was different. Maybe it was how there were kids learning how to shoot bows, people staying fit and healthy, working together without drama. Maybe it was because they knew that they could trust their leader. Ethan had quickly caught on that the people in the Kingdom didn’t know about the Saviors. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that they didn’t know about them or even the deal. Ethan wondered how long the deal had been going on, and how Ezekiel had managed to keep it hidden from them for so long. He didn’t like the idea of the people of the Kingdom not knowing, because it gave them a disadvantage.

But he did like how calm things felt, even if it didn’t feel real to him. It felt like life had finally slowed down from the fast track panic it had been before he’d come to the Kingdom.

“C’mon, kid,” said Daryl, holding out his hand to Ethan. He took hold of it and let the man heave him to his feet. The two would probably spend the day together again. They barely left each other’s side. “How’s yer chest?” he asked as they made the trip to the doctors of the Kingdom. “Does it hurt?”

Ethan shrugged his shoulder, draping Daryl’s arm over his shoulders. He kept his hands on Daryl’s wrist loosely. “Not any more. It itches sometimes from the scabs there, but it’s pretty much all healed up now, I think. Ever since we got here, I’ve been wanting to use one of the bows they’ve got here. Build up my upper arm strength again.” Just thinking about getting his hands on a bow again made him feel excited.

“Let’s just get yeh seen to by the doc first, alrigh’?” said Daryl, smiling at him in that Daryl way, continuing their trek to where the doctors were in the Kingdom.

The doctor that saw him was the same one that had been seeing him for however long he’d been staying in the Kingdom. He hadn’t really kept count of the days, but he had to guess that it had been at least a week. His chest was near enough all healed up now. The scabs he’d mentioned to Daryl were fading now, even though they still itched at points.

All that remained in their wake were long, large scars that were jagged and bright red, all angry and eternal.

“You should be completely healed within the next few days. Try not to overexert yourself and just keep yourself relaxed,” said the doctor, offering Ethan a smile. “As hard as that is to do these days, please do try. You’ll be able to move normally, lift your arms and move them as much as you want after those days, and may be able to shoot a bow if you’re lucky,”

When the doctor saw Ethan’s confused face, she smiled. “My daughter has seen you staring at where the archers practice, said you looked longing and a little sad. You should be able to shoot one soon,”

“Good to know. Thanks, doc,” he said, offering the woman a smile before he and Daryl left.

Ethan didn’t know what to do with himself. Daryl looked like he was experiencing something similar. The two shared a look and nodded. They were going to see Shiva the tiger. Ethan was excited about seeing her. The tiger fascinated him, and the thought that she was real and there was ridiculous. She was even able to help with the empty feeling in his chest. He figured it couldn’t be that weird to find comfort in Shiva; they were in an apocalypse after all.

“Jerry,” said Daryl, giving the man a nod as the two walked past him. He gave them both a bright smile and Ethan returned it; the man had something about him that made Ethan want to smile. Even though he had to have been hardened by the apocalypse, he always seemed to try and make others smile.

The two stayed silent as they made their way to Shiva’s cage. Silence seemed to work for them more each day and Ethan didn’t know how he felt about that. They barely spoke all that much, and it tore his heart apart. He already missed Aaron and Eric because he couldn’t see them, hadn’t spoken to them since the day Negan had invaded their lives. But now with Daryl not speaking to him much, but was always with him each day, it felt so much worse. He couldn’t say anything about it, didn’t know _how_ to say anything about whatever it was between them. He didn’t quite get why Daryl didn’t speak to him much, when they’d been speaking relatively well before. Something had to have upset Daryl.

And it broke Ethan in two because he didn’t know what upset him.

Shiva roared loudly when they entered. Ezekiel was there when they entered the room with the cage in. He was inside the cage, sitting beside her. Ethan offered the man a wave as he and Daryl ventured further inside. The man lingered behind him, an inch away but Ethan didn’t lean back into him; if Daryl wanted the comfort, he’d initiate it.

“How are you, young Ethan? Daryl?” the king asked, getting to his feet, exiting the cage, shutting the door behind him. “I hope asylum here is doing well for you,”

“Why do you talk like that?” asked Ethan, eyebrows coming together as he looked at the man, a sort of smile on his face. “You talk like you’re from somewhere else in history, like you’re actually a king. How come?”

The man smiled as Shiva came up to the bars, sniffing at Ethan’s hand. “The people believe in the king, and the king must uphold their beliefs.” He smiled once more at Ethan, patted his shoulder, then moved past them.

Ethan frowned a little, corners of his mouth lifting up a little. He turned to look at Daryl, jerking a thumb in the direction Ezekiel had just left in. “Did he just say that he’s bullshitting them?”

Whatever Daryl’s response was, all Ethan knew was that it was grunted. Maybe Ethan’s BTEs were finally dying on him and he just couldn’t decipher Daryl’s grunts any more.

They sat down, side by side, in front of Shiva’s cage, watching her move around inside. There was a bit of blood on the floor, and Ethan supposed that she’d just been fed. He was curious as to how Shiva ate.

But his main concern was Daryl. He could feel the tension in the man, and only their thighs were touching. He was radiating unease, unspoken questions. “What’s wrong?” asked Ethan, resting his left elbow on his knee, head on his fist, turned to the right towards Daryl. “You’re like the embodiment of tension right now,”

He wondered if Daryl would be comfortable with talking with whatever was eating away at him. He didn’t answer for a few seconds. Ethan could see him gnawing away at his lip. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I can’t dictate you like that. I’m just … worried. You don’t talk to me much anymore. Not after the Saviors. Did my sex joke scare you away from me?”

“Ain’ tha’,” he mumbled, and Ethan barely understood him. “Just a lo’ to process,”

“Jesus told me that you and him are together,” Ethan said slowly, sitting up properly, hand going to his chest to massage it. “Is that why you’re so tense?” Ethan pulled his legs to his chest, rested his arms on them, hands locked together and kept his gaze on Daryl.

Daryl shrugged a shoulder. “Lo’ to be tense abou’,” he said, looking over at the boy. “I would’a tol’ yeh. Abou’ me an’ Paul.” There it was, he was Jesus to everyone except from Daryl. “It jus’ … happened so fast, an’ now he ain’ here. An’ … an’ it’s my faul’. Everythin’ tha’ happened to yeh at the Sanctuary. I could’a stopped it.”

“My god, you sound like Carl,” said Ethan, shaking his head. “That shit at the Sanctuary happened to me because I ran away with Eli. If I’d stayed, I might’ve been killed. I could’ve died when I took out twenty walkers on my own. I could’ve fallen off that roof in Alexandria and fallen into a crowd of walkers, but I didn’t. That shit happened because _I_ ran from them. Jason wasn’t pleased, but Jesus helped get us out, and you helped to get me out before Jason killed me.” He offered Daryl a weak smile. “You helped me, even if you don’t think you did much. Like, back at the Hilltop, you and _Paul_ helped me get up and get around. You helped me get to the doc and did stuff for me when I couldn’t do it myself or when Paul wasn’t around to do it himself.”

Shiva made a sort of rumbling noise in her chest, face close to the cage bars. Ethan reached out and stroked the top of her head, and she closed her eyes, pleased. “Shiva reminds me of you,” Ethan said, smiling a little, glancing at Daryl out of the corner of his eye. “Looks menacing but is actually _really_ nice.”

The tiger moved away and settled down in front of them, closing her eyes and Ethan put his hands together again. “I’m still … comin’ to terms with it,” said Daryl, voice rough and deep, but Ethan caught on to what he said.

“About being into guys?” he asked, just to be sure. Daryl nodded once.

“Jus’ – women are nice to look at, an’ sometimes I though’ a fella or two were alrigh’, but Paul, he …” Daryl trailed off. “The others don’ know about you an’ Carl,” he said, changing the subject.

Ethan scoffed a little. “Because we didn’t tell them about it,” he said, shoulder lifting up for a second before it came back down. He looked over at Daryl. “What’s with the change? You still trying to get used to the idea of you and Paul?” Something flickered in Daryl’s face. It made Ethan’s stomach churn. “Daryl?”

“I ever tell yeh my dad was an asshole, like yers?” he asked, hand going to his face to roughly wipe at it. “Weren’ stupid enough to bring home guys. Jus’ hard to think ‘bout this thin’,”

“Dads are the worst, usually,” said Ethan. “You’re doing an alright job.”

He saw the shock in Daryl’s face. “C’mon, I already said you’re like a dad to me and that I love you, what else do I have to prove to you you’re good and enough?” He blinked, wiping at his own face, the stinging in the back of his eyes. “I mean, you’ve done your best taking care of me and helping me. You’ve never called me a girl or used female pronouns. You-you always have my back, and back in the Sanctuary, you did all you could to try and do right by me.”

It took a moment for Daryl to compose himself. “I said I’d be proud of yeh if yeh were my son,” he began, putting his arm around Ethan. “Bu’ as far as I care, yeh _are_ my son,”

Ethan turned his head into Daryl’s shoulder, his arm going around Daryl’s back as Daryl embraced him tightly, head against Ethan’s. “So, are yeh gonna tell me about Carl?”

He felt himself laugh. “You gonna tell me about Paul?” he asked in return, pulling away a little to look at Daryl. The man was smiling a little.

“Maybe later,”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan couldn’t sleep. He probably could if he shut his eyes and let his mind drift, but he was too busy staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts swam around, driving him near insanity.

“Do you wanna know?” he asked, voice loud in the quiet. He hadn’t taken off his hearing aids yet. He turned his head to look over at Daryl. “Were you being serious about that part?”

“If yer alrigh’ with tellin’ me,” came the reply.

He felt his teeth sink into his lower lip, not enough to draw blood. He scratched at the skin on his thumb again. “It was the night you and the others attacked the satellite tower. Eric was busy with Judith and –” Ethan felt the blood rush to his face. Oh, god, why was he telling Daryl this? He felt his face burn because neither of them exactly talked about these things to one another. “– and he asked me to show him what it would be like to kiss boys.”

Just because he had terrible hearing didn’t mean he didn’t hear Daryl laugh. “An’ did yeh?” he asked, the amusement in Daryl’s voice. If Ethan had the energy, he’d throw a pillow at him. But as it were, Ethan was lazy.

“Yeah. And then when we were going to bed, we talked about it, asked if it was OK for us, talked about Negan, maybe kissed again and then went to sleep,” he said, shrugging his shoulder. “That’s it.”

There was a brief pause. Then, “When yeh said yeh were goin’ to bed –”

Ethan’s face promptly burst into flames. Or at least that’s what it felt like. “We literally shared my bed and went to sleep. I don’t think I’m into that kinda stuff anyway,”

He definitely heard Daryl laugh that time. “So yer alrigh’ with makin’ sex jokes about me an’ Paul, but as soon as it’s yer turn, you can’ say the words?”

“Didn’t think I’d have this conversation? Would you like me to explicitly say that I am not into sex? Because I’m not into sex. Unlike you, apparently. Paul said you were walking bow-legged and I have mental images that are embedded in my brain for ever.”

He was sure that he could feel the heat from Daryl’s face from across the room. “Yer a pain in my ass sometimes,”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as Paul is.” Daryl groaned from across the room. “Talking of, since I told you my mushy shit, why don’t you enlighten me on how the great Daryl Dixon, hunter and archer of Alexandria manage to fall tits over ass for Paul _Jesus_ Rovia?” He knew that he’d never hear Daryl repeat it to another living soul, so thought that he might as well get him to say it now, especially since he’d just admitted his relationship with Carl to him. It felt like a night to reveal more nervous, almost intimate parts of themselves to each other.

“Were jus’ talkin’. ‘Bout yeh. I wanted to check in on yeh – we could hear parts of what yeh were saying through the walls. But Paul tol’ me to sit tigh’ cos you an’ Carl were workin’ things out,”

Ethan felt himself frown, remembering what had been said that night. “That night was scary,” he said, fingers tangling together. “Carl made it sound like he loves me.” And he as much as he wanted that to be true, he wished Carl didn’t. If something happened to Ethan, and Carl actually _loved_ him, then it’d hurt him more.

“You love him?” asked Daryl, and the question made Ethan’s stomach flip and attempt to leave his body. His pause was enough for Daryl, who sounded smug. “Paul talked to me abou’ some stuff, tol’ me he’s gay, bits on transitions like the one yer goin’ through, his plans he has,” Daryl’s voice trailed off a little, and Ethan would bet that Daryl had a soft smile on his face. “Then we heard Carl say he was glad he met yeh an’ it made me realise I was glad I met Paul,”

“Didn’t you chase Paul around a field and then punch him in the face?”

“Our firs’ impressions on ‘em had us punchin’ ‘em in the firs’ five minutes of knowin’ each other,”

He had to admit that Daryl did have a point. “Love at first chase for you then, right?” he asked teasingly.

Daryl made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Yeah. Tol’ ‘im an’ he said the same, an’ I s’pose things started from there.” There was something weirdly soft in the way Daryl spoke. Maybe this was the first time he’d been able to open up himself about something like this. Ethan knew Daryl’s dad – and older brother – weren’t the best, and often abusive, so maybe this was the first time he’d been able to talk about it in his entire life. However long and painful that had been.

“You glad you made the choice?” he asked, readjusting his pillow, eyes on Daryl’s figure on the other bed.

“Yeah. Are yeh glad abou’ yer choice?”

“Yeah,” he replied, thinking back to when Carl had come to Hilltop and had hugged him so tightly, the worry in his voice. It made Ethan’s stomach knot up, just thinking about how worried the boy had been for him. As much as Ethan didn’t want to get too attached, he had an inkling that he’d gotten too attached to Carl. If – or _when_ – Carl died, he knew it would hurt far more than if they’d just been friends.

He wondered if he’d made the right choice to be with Rick’s group. But then he realised that he couldn’t imagine life without these people. They’d each taken parts of Ethan and made him better, and he’d put each of them in his heart in return.

“Sleep,” said Daryl. “Yer gonna need it.”

Ethan knew the man was right. It didn’t mean he was going to get any rest that night.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where did you get this?” Ethan asked Jerry, taking hold of the recurve bow the man had been holding out in front of him. Ethan was aware of the smile forming on his face. “Dude, it’s awesome.” He felt the weight in his hand, balancing it.

“The King and I went out … to deal with the Saviors, but on the way back, we found this. King Ezekiel heard you talking about wanting to use a bow again, and since you’ve undoubtedly got experience with one, we thought it was best to give it to you. It even had an arm guard, though I think it might be a bit too big for you,”

He looked up at Jerry, only to see a bright smile on the man’s face. “Thanks, man,”

“No problem, little dude. Be sure to put it to good use,”

“Of course,” he said, nodding his head as he picked up the quiver and put it on his back, the excitement bubbling in his veins. Once he’d fitted the arm guard on his left arm, and Jerry had shown him the finger tab he’d also found, Ethan felt a little more like himself. “I wanna go outside,” he said, still handling the bow. He’d need to test it out and readjust and change things. Or remember things. It’d been a while since Ethan had last used a bow.

“Like, _outside_ outside?” asked Jerry, raising an eyebrow at Ethan. “Little dude, I dunno if that’s a good idea,”

Ethan had thought that Jerry would say as much. He tapped his fingers on the riser, looking around the area they were stood in. They were inside, near the room Ethan and Daryl had been sharing in the Kingdom. “Well. You could always come out with me. But I don’t want to risk you out there,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I was out there by myself for a while too, so even if no-one else comes with me, nothing too bad should happen.”

Jerry sighed, raising an eyebrow at Ethan. “Let me get my battle axe. Meet me by the gates.”

“See you in five,” Ethan said in return, offering a short smile before he turned on his heel and headed that way, the bow slung over him, the bowstring of it pressed against his chest.

He didn’t have to walk far before he was stopped by someone.

“Fuck’re yeh goin’?” asked Daryl, reaching over to touch the string. “Where’d ya get this?” he added, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

“Jerry. Him and Ezekiel found it. We’re gonna go out there and see if I’m as good an archer as you,” he said, looking over at Daryl. “Nah, really we’re gonna see how well I’m gonna be with the bow. Won’t be long, won’t go far,”

Daryl was wearing his expression where he was trying to decide something. It was a barely-there-expression, but Ethan had steadily gotten better at picking up on the minute changes in Daryl’s face when he was thinking. The man was damn difficult to read.

“Yer chest healed up enough?” he asked, nodding his head towards him. “I don’ wan’ yeh goin’ outside the walls if yer not healed.”

It still shocked Ethan that Daryl cared for him so much. They both knew that Jerry was capable of looking after himself and others beyond the walls. “It’s fine. All that’s left is some scars that’ll never fade and some mild pain that’s not too bad,” he said, then felt himself smile. “Don’t you wanna see how I’m gonna best you in archery?”

Daryl scoffed, shaking his head, but he was smiling at him. “Don’ need to be there to know yer better. Be safe out there,” he said. Daryl made a sort of jerked motion, like he was going to do something to Ethan, but refrained himself from doing it. Ethan would’ve asked Daryl what he was going to do, but when Jerry called for him, he had to leave him.

“You be safe too, Daryl,” said Ethan as he walked backwards, offering the man a smile before he turned on his heel and jogged over to Jerry. As he got closer, Jerry smiled at him and even waved at him a little. “Hey, man,” he said. They turned to the gates which had begun to open the closer Ethan had gotten to Jerry. They headed out, and Ethan glanced behind to see Daryl looking at him almost worriedly.

Should he have asked Daryl to come along too? They’d been spending a lot of their time together, and maybe he had wanted to go with Ethan. However, Ethan didn’t want to crowd Daryl. He knew that the man liked his space and had felt that he’d been encroaching on it. Still, it didn’t stop Ethan from missing him as soon as they’d lost sight of each other.

“We won’t be gone too long,” said Jerry as they walked forwards, leaving the Kingdom behind them. “Your dad seemed worried,” he added, glancing over at Ethan, who had pulled his bow from his body and was holding it in his hands.

Ethan felt the corners of his mouth try to tug upwards in a smile. “Shit with the Saviors. We both had a shit deal, s’why we’re _seeking asylum_ in the Kingdom,”

“Can I ask what happened to you?” asked Jerry. “You said a lot of stuff when you first came to the Kingdom, and I wanted to know a little more. It’s totally chill if you don’t wanna say anything about it, little dude,”

He shrugged a shoulder, sighing through his nose. “Negan took me and Daryl to the Sanctuary – where the most Saviors are – and just … tortured us. He had me go through some surgery and it stopped me from using my arms for a few weeks from where the incisions were on my chest. I’m sorta fucked over anyway, but hey, at least I look a little more like a guy now. But there’s so much to Negan and the shit with the Saviors. My real – well, biological father, he, uh, he was never proud of me to begin with. So he hurt me a bit. Most of the-the scars on my body are from him, save a few from strangers I’ve met on the road. He’s not getting any Father of the Year awards any time soon.” He wasn’t sure how to end the sentence, so shrugged again.

“That sucks,” Jerry said, and Ethan felt himself laugh. “You’ve got Daryl, so things might be a little easier. And Jesus, from the looks of things.”

“And Aaron and Eric,” Ethan said quietly, thinking back to the two all the way in Alexandria. He thought about them every day, and every day was tough. He couldn’t remember the last thing he’d said to them, what they’d last laughed about, what Aaron had last cooked for them. He wished they could come to the Kingdom and be there for him. As much as Daryl was there for him, he didn’t quite have the same understanding of him as the other two did. They all had different levels of understanding and sympathies, and he wished he could see them at least one last time just so he could tell them that he loved them.

Ethan wiped at his face, aware of how the stinging in the back of his eyes had come over him so suddenly and violently. “Dunno if I ever told them that I love them,” he said, not really sure as to why he was telling Jerry all of this. “Gonna do my best to find them and my brother and tell ‘em just that,”

“You’ll find your brother. Might take some time, but you’ll do it.”

“Thanks, man.”

 

* * *

 

 

The bow wasn’t perfect – was there ever a bow that was? – but Ethan had been able to adjust himself to how this bow felt and worked in his hands.

The two had come across some walkers, which had naturally turned into target practice for Ethan. He’d not been too shabby at his practice, hitting the walkers in the head more often than not. He was just glad that the arrows he had hadn’t broken when the walkers had fallen. He knew he’d have to make some more arrows at some point, but for now he was just glad he had something familiar to work with.

It made him feel normal.

He’d promised Eli that he’d teach him how to use a bow. The thought made Ethan’s stomach churn uncomfortably. He was going to find Eli, once this war with the Saviors was over, Ethan would go out – maybe on his own – and find him. Without his brother, he didn’t feel like he was complete.

But he’d get there. He knew he would. He had to.

After talking with Jerry out in the world with no walls to keep them safe, they’d found some scraps of food and things long since forgotten. He had found a good friend in Jerry and knew the man would do anything to help the people around him. He was another person that Ethan didn’t want to die. That list had only gotten longer and longer during his stint with Rick’s group.

Ethan was getting some food from the sort of food hall, sitting alone and sort of away from the residents of the Kingdom, when Ezekiel came and sat opposite him. He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Hey,” he said, then spooned some food into his mouth. “Sitting with one of the peasants today then?” he asked, eliciting a chuckle from Ezekiel. In the distance, he saw a white kid – a little blond boy – watching them. He offered a small wave to the kid briefly before he looked back at Ezekiel. Kid was probably staring at his fucked up face.

“You are far from a peasant, young Ethan. I am simply here to talk to you about what you spoke about with Jerry,” he said. Ethan scoffed a little and rolled his eyes. “What he told me, he said in confidence, and I don’t want you to think any less of him.”

“Course I don’t. You’re his king, you’re bound to know shit from him.”

He saw Ezekiel flash a smile. “If we are to go fight the Saviors, things will change indefinitely,”

“Obviously. They’re gonna be pissed at you and possibly kill people by batting their heads into pieces.” His mother, Glenn and Abraham came to mind, and he could feel the ghost of Glenn’s hold on him, the weight of his body when he’d taken the hit for him. It made him feel sick and lose his appetite. But he kept on eating anyway. His body would hate him if he didn’t get some food in him. “Why? You planning on helping us try and defeat them?”

“Perhaps,” said Ezekiel. Ethan supposed he was to try and convince Ezekiel to help. It was either that or get Daryl to stare the man down until he relented and helped. “Tell me about your biological father – and your mother, if you are alright with mentioning them.”

Ethan put down the cutlery and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He clasped his hands together, rested them on the table and looked at Ezekiel with a steady gaze. He could do this. “Jason Albright is a prick. He is an abusive asshole and fucked me up from day fucking one. See these scars on my face?” He pointed to his face, not that he really needed to. He saw the little kid turn away. “Personalised by Jason. Real charmer, he is. He used to be military, funnily enough. He was a real nutjob before the apocalypse. Might’ve loved my mom at one point, but I never fucking saw it. He’s like one of Negan’s righthand men. He has a few, and some of them are women too, because he knows that they’re smart and know how to survive, so wants the best of the best by his side. But we’re talking about Jason.

“He’s a monster, putting it lightly. The walkers? Piece of piss in comparison to him. He makes your skin crawl and just by looking at you, it feels like he turns you to stone just so he can cut pieces of you away until you’re nothing but rubble.” Ethan wasn’t quite sure how he was able to tell Ezekiel any of this. Maybe it was the calm aura and the lack of judgement the man had about him. But Ezekiel’s expression had turned serious as Ethan had continued explaining Jason, and there was a dark look in Ezekiel’s eyes.

“Who’s worse?”

“Negan or Jason? Depends on who you piss off more. Separate, they’re not that bad to deal with, so long as you know you’ll shit yourself in their company anyway. Together? Unstoppable. They’re fucking vermin. Negan allowed Jason to come near me, allowed him to beat me half to death every day, allowed him to hurt me in so many ways that I cannot name them all.” Ethan wasn’t ready to put a name to what Jason had done; it’d make it real. “Jason is a beast on a leash and Negan has control. As soon as Jason’s free, that’s it. There’s no chance of survival. The only person who has some form of control over him is Negan, and Negan doesn’t care what Jason does, so long as he delivers. And Jason Albright _always_ delivers.”

It looked like Ethan had unnerved Ezekiel. “And your mom?”

Ethan tried to blink back the tears. God, he missed her. He could remember every single detail of her remains from that night. How she’d _known_ what he really was and let him know. In her last moments, she’d let him know she accepted him.

He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, hiding his mouth as he turned his gaze away from Ezekiel for a moment. “She shouldn’t have ever gone near Jason. She cared too much. If she hadn’t had me and Eli, she could’ve run away, maybe back to Korea, or to Michigan, whichever she wanted. But she’d had me, and Eli was coming along after a few years. She taught me Korean before English, she was a first-generation immigrant, so thought that she ought to teach me a little bit of our culture. My dad didn’t like that idea, but she didn’t care. He’d made her fall in love with him when he’d visited South Korea, and she’d followed him to some strange, foreign country. She was going to teach her kids her language. She was a good teacher.”

He looked up and saw Ezekiel was giving him a sad kind of smile. “She also learnt American Sign Language when I started to lose my hearing. We weren’t allowed a proper teacher, so she had to learn it all online, at work, wherever and whenever she could. Then she taught me and Eli. After, for kicks, we learnt the British Sign Language alphabet. It felt a bit easier to learn than the American one. But yeah, she was the best. She tried to keep me and Eli safe, even when the apocalypse hit. She didn’t want us to ever kill someone, but I had to, it was inevitable.”

“Tell me about your brother?”

“Aha,” Ethan pressed his hands to his face, trying to stop himself from breaking down right then and there. He sniffled and pulled his hands away, forcing himself to look Ezekiel in the eye. “He’s the best. Best annoying little brother to ever exist. He had to go through so much shit before and during this shithole. But he always managed to make me and Mom smile. He was one of the best things to ever happen to me. He’s gotta be, like, nearing eleven now. Last I saw him, he was ten. He was born in the summer, and it’s getting warmer, so summer’s happening soon.”

“You love your brother very much,” said Ezekiel, his voice soft and almost lost to the BTEs. Ethan still nodded, having gone silent. He missed Eli so much, it made his heart ache so bad it hurt to breathe. “We will need strategies on how to attack the Saviors, when and where it’d be best to hit them and then once it is all over, you shall find your brother once more.”

Ethan nodded, trying to keep himself together, but Ezekiel had said it. The Kingdom was going to war against the Saviors.

When Ethan finally got back to his shared room with Daryl, the older man was already there. He couldn’t look at him. Ethan knew that if he looked at or even spoke to Daryl, that he’d just burst into tears. Today had been rough and he wasn’t entirely sure how. Maybe talking about it to Jerry and Ezekiel, remembering just how much he missed Aaron and Eric, how he hadn’t been able to properly mourn his mother and knew he’d never see Eli again had all finally caught up with him.

“Kid?” asked Daryl, and then Ethan felt the tears slip past, going down his face as he shut the door behind him. When he didn’t answer, Daryl got up and approached him. “Hey, kid?”

Somehow, that had been enough to set it all off.

Daryl froze – he saw as much through his blurred vision – and then sprang into action, pulling Ethan to his chest as he wrapped his arms around him. He might’ve said something, but the hearing aids came loose and dropped to the floor at their feet. Neither particularly cared. Daryl led Ethan to his bed and the two sat together as Ethan continued to cry, unable to stop himself. It didn’t appear to matter to Daryl, who kept a firm hold on Ethan. He was speaking, but the words didn’t quite reach what they’d been aiming for. Albeit Ethan could feel the vibrations from Daryl’s chest, and tried to concentrate on that, as well as the heart that was thumping away close to his face.

Everything had just been a lot for the deaf boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of updates; uni exams sucked. Feedback on this fic would be greatly appreciated, as I like hearing from readers very much!


	17. Going Back

Ethan kept himself occupied by shooting his bow every day. If he didn’t have the bow in his hands, he felt uneasy. It was a little strange to see how quickly having a bow in his hand had managed to calm him, and without it, he would begin to get more antsy.

Something that couldn’t get out of Ethan’s mind was the conversation he’d had with Daryl several nights since. When they’d spoken to each other about their romantic relationships. Daryl managed to find a way to make him think about things until they didn’t make any more sense. He wasn’t sure if that was good or not, especially since he couldn’t not think about it.

He’d shoot an arrow into the one already in the bullseye, but he didn’t have arrows to spare. Instead he turned and shot it into the bullseye on the right, barely looking at it properly before letting it loose. Ethan was the only one using the archery range at whatever time of night it was. There had been a fire lit not too far away from him, and the flickering shadows helped to distort things when the wind blew hard enough. But he already had where the targets were memorised.

Ethan missed so many people. He missed his family, both that were blood-related and newly found. As much as he tried to suppress the upset with archery, it was still present.

“If you shoot any more arrows into those targets, we’re not going to have any more targets for the others to use,” said Richard. Ethan had felt rather than heard him approach, even if the wind had carried his footsteps a little. The left side – from which Richard had approached from – had gone all weirdly tingly, and that usually only happened when someone was coming near him. He would’ve made a joke about his spidey-senses tingling but didn’t want to talk to Richard.

Richard made Ethan feel an uncomfortable kind of weird. “Yes, that’s my plan all along. Ruin your targets so that you have to go out and find walkers to practice on. Totally wouldn’t actually end up helping people in the long run if they had a moving target to get used to aiming at.”

“It was just a joke,”

Ethan was sure his internal response of, _so is your existence,_ wasn’t appropriate to verbalise. He instead decided to do what Daryl usually did and hoped it’d make the man leave him alone. He grunted.

“You have incredible aim,” Richard continued. Maybe grunting like a Neanderthal only worked for Daryl. He’d have to ask him some time. “Better than the other archers here.”

“Daryl’s better.” Ethan said, voice cold and stony. “Don’t see you complimenting him on his skills.”

The man chuckled, and Ethan had an urge to turn and use Dick as target practice. Maybe he was just antsy and in need of going back outside the walls again. Being cooped up made Ethan uneasy. Or maybe it was just the Kingdom and some of its residents that made Ethan so tense. “I fear the man would cut out my tongue if I did,”

“And I wouldn’t?” Ethan asked quietly, taking another arrow and nocked it, drawing the bowstring back. He exhaled when he let it go. There was a thud when it hit its mark. He turned around and looked at Richard. “What do you want?” he asked. He had half a mind to start yelling for Daryl or someone else who might be able to help him. Richard put Ethan so on edge.

“Straight to the point.”

Ethan decided to keep his mouth shut, refraining from making a comment about not being straight at all. For some reason, Richard didn’t exactly give him the impression of being welcoming to people who weren’t straight. He wondered if the man had caught on to him not being cisgender either. Ethan didn’t really want to find out. He knew his body and face weren’t all too masculine, so knew most people thought he was something he wasn’t.

“I want to attack the Saviors,”

Ethan snorted. “So do I, pal, but I ain’t stupid about it.” He walked over to the different targets and took his time taking the arrows out, being careful not to break them. “If you’re asking me to join you on a suicide mission, then you’re shit outta luck. I ain’t going out there on a whim just cos you want to try your luck at killing some.”

His footsteps had been loud enough. Ethan turned around and pointed the sharpest arrow up to Richard’s throat. The man stopped in his tracks. “Listen, fuckface. I ain’t gonna do whatever the fuck kinda bullshit you’re wanting me to do. You can fuck the hell off. You’re gonna get yourself and others killed. From the looks of it, you don’t give a shit that you’ll die, but if you get other people killed, then you’re just a fucking waste of supplies.”

He pressed the arrowhead into Richard’s throat. Not hard enough to kill him or make him bleed, but definitely enough to leave a mark. “I’m gonna give you a little bit of advice: don’t do whatever the fuck you’re planning on. You’re gonna get your people here hurt or killed or goddamn _worse_. Whatever the Saviors have done to you, they can and _will_ do worse. So do yourself, and everyone in the Kingdom, a favour and don’t go through with whatever bullshit plan you’ve got in your head.”

Richard reacted in a way Ethan hadn’t quite anticipated. He punched Ethan in the gut, broke the arrow in his grip and put his hand around Ethan’s throat. Ethan felt himself stop breathing, which probably wasn’t a good idea. “Listen here, you fucking tranny. All I need is for you to shoot some of these fuckers. We heard what you said they did to you, so why don’t you step the fuck up and act like a man and get shit done?”

“And men usually threaten to strangle kids too?” he managed to say. A second later, Richard released his grip on him. “Not the kinda man I’m gonna turn into.” Ethan massaged his throat. The man had a stronger grip than what he’d first thought. Ethan’s face contorted quickly, and quicker than that, he’d punched Richard in the gut. When the man doubled over, Ethan brought the man’s face down into his knee. Ethan was pleased to hear the crack of Richard’s nose. “Stay the fuck away from me, or I’ll tear your fucking head off.”

He walked off with all his arrows and a new bruise forming on his neck.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Daryl was gone. Ethan hadn’t been told as to where he’d left to, and Ezekiel didn’t know what happened, so Ethan decided to ask the people on the gates.

“Yo!” he called up, hand on his forehead, blocking out the sun. “Daryl leave here? The angry-racoon-crossbow guy?”

They snorted at his description of the man. “Yeah, with Richard, must’ve left a while back. Why?”

“Dammit,” he muttered, shaking his head. Of course that prick had gone with Daryl. It didn’t take any effort to know what Richard had said to the man. Daryl was probably struggling from the aftermath of being tortured by Dwight. Ethan felt the same. “I’ll be back in a minute, be ready to open those gates for me,” he said, turning on his heel to run back for his weapons.

He’d gotten a new gun, spear and some knives similar to his own. He didn’t waste time as he went and got one of the horses that he preferred, and it preferred him, and he let it go to the gate. They looked down at him, not opening the gates like he’d requested.

“C’mon, guys, I’ll not be gone long,” he said, squinting up at them. “I need to find his idiot ass,”

One of them shifted. “We heard about you – you think you’re ready after your surgery?”

Fuck. Ethan scoffed, running his tongue over his teeth as he shook his head. “That happened ages ago.” He’d gotten better, considerably, when it came to movement. He could draw the bowstring, which was all that mattered at this point. He could point and shoot an arrow, and have it land near perfectly in a target. He was no Amazing Hawkeye, but he was pretty damn good. “I’ve got the horse, so if shit happens, I can get away,” he said, offering the two a smile. “C’mon, open the gates,”

Rather reluctantly, they did. He pressed his heel into the horse’s side and it began walking forwards, out of the Kingdom and back into the undead world.

He urged the horse into a run, and then he had to follow the tracks. From the looks of it, Daryl knew he’d come looking for him, leaving a trail just for him. There were enough dead for him to kill and avoid, using the spear to jab them in the heads before he moved on. Something must’ve happened for Daryl to leave him a trail, knew he’d come looking regardless of what others would tell him.

But then the purpose trail went cold. Daryl was hiding his tracks well, but Ethan used his eyesight, so he still managed to see a faint one. He followed it, keeping one eye on the trail, the other on the area around him. Ethan wasn’t going to let himself get preoccupied with what he was doing, knowing just how easily the walkers could descend on him. From the looks of the tracks, Daryl had definitely been with someone, and that had to be Richard. Just thinking of Daryl being with that prick made Ethan’s skin crawl.

Ethan eventually found him. He was outside of a house that was on its own, secluded within its garden that held some graves. Daryl knocked on the door as Ethan reigned the horse back, getting it to slow to a stop. When he saw Carol he felt himself smile, shook his head and made the horse turn around and made it go back. Daryl was safe when he was with Carol. She could protect him and talk to him in a different, good way too. But he still wished that Daryl had told him he was going. It would’ve been better than Ethan worrying over him too much.

“Ethan, my young fellow!” came a booming voice five minutes after he retreated. Ethan nearly fell off his horse, but it was just Ezekiel, Jerry and three other people. He steadied the horse’s pace and looked down at them as they neared him. “What brings you out here?”

“Wanted to see where Daryl was. He’s OK. I was just heading back to the Kingdom,” he said, gesturing forwards, in the general direction of where the Kingdom was. “But I can stay alongside you,” he said. Jerry smiled at him, then got closer and petted the horse.

They continued to walk in relative silence, someone occasionally talking. Ethan stayed inside his head for the most part. Why had Daryl gone out? Had he wanted Ethan to know that he’d gone to see Carol, but had changed his mind about it? Or had something happened to make him stop making the trail for him. Where had Richard gone? Or had he just forgotten about Ethan?

The idea that Daryl had forgotten about Ethan tore away at his heart. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to keep himself calm. He wouldn’t forget about him.

“It’s good to see you up and about like this. However, I do not like the idea of you being out here alone, Ethan,” said Ezekiel, pulling Ethan out of whatever mindset he’d been slipping in to. It was still there, in the back of him mind, but he tried to concentrate on the king as much as possible.

“Because of the Saviors?” he asked, though he already knew it’d be the answer. The king inclined his head in a nod. Ethan shrugged his shoulder, eyebrows coming together a little. “I can take them on. My chest is better, so it wouldn’t be too hard. Just so long as there weren’t more than one or two,” he said, trying to offer a smile and winked a little. His attempts to make it light and joking seemed to succeed as the others laughed in their small group. “Hey, when we get back, is it OK if I stay with Shiva?”

Ezekiel nodded again. “Of course. Shiva has taken quite a shine to you,” he said, offering him a smile.

Their walk back wasn’t as bad as Ethan thought it could be. They’d come across a few walkers, but they’d all been taken care of without too much energy being exerted.

It was still bugging him. What the hell had even happened to Daryl? He knew the man was fine, he was with Carol, but he wondered what the hell had happened before he reached where the woman now resided. He supposed that he’d find out sooner or later.

He also needed to tell him about what Richard had done the previous night. When he’d gone to bed that night, Daryl had already been asleep, and he hadn’t wanted to bother him; the man needed his sleep. When Ethan had woken in the morning, Daryl had already left. He hadn’t seen him all day. Ethan had quickly grown used to seeing Daryl daily whilst in the Kingdom, and with just one day without seeing him, it was making him feel tense and out of his depth.

He wondered how he’d managed it when he’d been alone, with only his thoughts for company. He was glad that he’d come across Rick’s group.

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl came back. He always did. Ethan could hear some kind of commotion – or conversation – down the hall a ways. It was too indistinct for Ethan to make anything out of it, so he just ignored it. If it was bad, it’d be louder and would sound a little more frantic than what it was.

Shiva growled, pawing at the floor of her cage. Seeing her in there reminded him of when he’d been inside that cell in the Sanctuary. But Shiva had more freedom in her cage than what Ethan had had. He’d not been in sunlight, hadn’t been taken out regularly and she even had decent food given to her. But seeing her in the cage brought back bad memories, and he wanted to try and make some new ones. He’d try to make new memories; of Shiva in her brightly lit cage that had space to move around and light coming into it from each and every angle because it wasn’t like the cell back in the Sanctuary at all.

He could hear loud footsteps approaching. They were purposely loud, Ethan could tell. Whoever it was wanted him to know that they were approaching. Accidental sound from footsteps sounded vastly different from the footsteps he could hear.

Daryl came back, just as he always did. He found Ethan with Shiva, like what Ethan had supposed would happen. “Ezekiel said yeh went out today,” he said. “Fer me.” Ethan hadn’t turned to look at Daryl, but knew the man was only standing in the doorway, maybe leaning against the doorjamb or something, not wanting to intrude on him.

“Yeah, cos you left.” He kept his eyes on Shiva as she approached from inside her cell. He held out his hand through the bars and she leaned into his touch. He shoved the tears away with his other hand. “If you’re gonna go, then tell me. I can’t … just warn me when you go, because being alone is the worst thing to realise. I thought you were gone like Eli,”

“We’re still gonna find yer brother,” the man started, but Ethan got up and moved closer to him. He’d been right. Daryl had been standing in the doorway.

“Bullshit, we will! He’s as good as dead. He’s fucking _ten_ and he’s out there all alone and maybe trying to find me but I’m inside here and I’m safe unlike him. I-I-I went out and tried to find him, and I found Alexandria and let you and Aaron take me in and then I didn’t go out for nearly _two months_. And it’s been so long since then, and there is no way in hell he could be alive any more.” He turned away, hating himself for being so emotional. He didn’t want to cry all the time.

He gritted his teeth and turned to look back up at Daryl. “What are we doing? Here could be safe, but we know it won’t be soon. Just like every-fucking-thing else in this shithole. All I want to do is try and find my brother. He’s … ever since this shit hit, he was the only thing that kept me going, because he deserved so much more. And now he’s not here, might be dead in a ditch or _worse_ and I can just feel myself giving up. He’s the only reason why I’m still in this fucking world.”

Daryl moved quickly, pulling Ethan to his chest, head resting atop his as he put his hands on the boy’s back. “We’re gonna find Eli,” he promised. “Yer gonna find yer brother an’ I’ll help yeh,”

“I’m so fucking tired of everything,”

“I know,” he said, his grip on the boy tightening minutely. “Yer strong an’ yer gonna find ‘im an’ it’s gonna be alrigh’.”

Ethan wasn’t sure if that was true. He just held onto Daryl tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he tried not to think about all the bad things that happened and would happen.

The next morning, they decided to go back to the Hilltop. And it felt awkward. Or rather, it felt awkward for Ethan. Maybe it had been because of what had happened the previous night. He’d exploded on Daryl, about Eli and how tired he was. It wasn’t a secret that his motivation to get through the world was his baby brother. Without Eli, everything was getting so much harder. Ethan was scared that without the little photos he had of Eli, that he’d forget what he looked like.

“The bike’s not much, but it’s something,” said Jerry, gesturing to the bike. When Ezekiel had heard that the two would be going to the Hilltop, he had suggested that they use a motorbike rather than walk all that way. Ethan had suspected that he didn’t want Ethan walking all that way after seeing the damage to his chest. “It’s got enough fuel for you two to get to the Hilltop with no problems. Sad to see you go, dudes,” Jerry said, offering a sort of smile to the two of them. Daryl grunted at the man with a nod of appreciation as he mounted the bike. Ethan returned the smile, and then was swamped in a hug from Jerry.

The sentiment was appreciated.

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you,” said Ethan once he’d finally been able to pull away from Jerry. “I’ll come visit, you’ll be sick of seeing my face soon enough.”

He climbed onto the bike behind Daryl, having a weird sense of déjà vu, though it felt a little empty at the same time. He took out his hearing aids and put them in his pocket, zipping it shut. He then put his arms around Daryl’s middle as the man let the engine roar to life. Ethan waved to Jerry, who did it in return, and then they shot out of the Kingdom’s gates, heading back to the Hilltop.

For the ride back to the Hilltop, it was silent between the two. Ethan hadn’t felt the need to talk to Daryl, who probably didn’t need the distraction whilst riding the bike. So that left Ethan alone in his thoughts without the ability to hear. Though he could hear the sound of the engine, it brought a little bit of comfort to him. It felt weird to be on the bike and be without Jesus behind him, but he supposed that was because the man had been there to make sure he hadn’t fallen off the bike when he’d been near enough dying from pain.

But when he’d finally get to the Hilltop, he’d see Enid and Maggie again. And Ethan had been thinking about Maggie and her baby. Glenn had sacrificed himself for Ethan, and there was no way that Ethan would ever really be able to pay his debt to Glenn, so he had to settle for the next best thing. He’d protect Maggie and help her with her baby. Ethan was going to help her raise her baby and keep it safe as best as he could.

It took what felt like several hours, and zero stops, before the Hilltop finally came into view. As Daryl got them closer to the gates, the guy – Kal, Ethan remembered – opened the gates for them. It felt nice to see something familiar. It almost felt like home.

Daryl killed the engine and Ethan got off and stretched and saw Enid walking over as he put his BTEs back on. He offered her a smile. She got close enough, punched him in the shoulder and then pulled him into a hug. Ethan let out a laugh without meaning to but hugged her back nonetheless.

“You fucking left.” she said, and Ethan reckoned that was the first time he heard her swear. “You said you were staying.”

“I’m sorry. But I am staying now,” he promised, feeling suddenly emotional and close to tears. He guessed he never really knew how much Enid actually cared about him. “’M not gonna go anywhere now,”

“I thought Ethan was dating Carl?” asked Maggie loudly, and the two pulled apart from each other to frown at her. Her baby bump had formed a little, not that noticeable if you weren’t looking for it. Ethan was glad to see that her baby was alive and well and growing.

Ethan saw the small smile on Daryl’s face. “He is.” He was beginning to regret telling Daryl that. “Mushy shit an’ all,” he said, eliciting chuckles from the other adults and a smirk from Enid.

Assholes, all of them.

 

* * *

 

 

Enid and Ethan were sharing a bed in Barrington. Maggie and Sasha were sharing a room and Jesus and Daryl were sharing Jesus’ trailer.

“What’s the bet that Daryl’s gonna be walking bow-legged tomorrow?” asked Ethan, partly regretting ever opening his mouth as the mental images flooded his mind.

Enid made a weird, disgusted noise beside him, where her head was resting on his shoulder. “Jesus is gonna be walking bow-legged.”

He scoffed. “In the Kingdom, Jesus told me that he’d basically been on top when they first fucked,”

The girl beside him shoved at his chest. It didn’t hurt when she did it, so he supposed he really had healed up properly. “Didn’t need to know that,” she told him. “Maybe they take turns?” she suggested after a moment. Ethan laughed.

“Possibly.” He nodded his head a little then looked at her in the semi-darkness. “What?” he asked, because he could partly see the look on her face.

“Have you and Carl had sex?”

Ethan felt his face explode. “No,” he said honestly. “I don’t think I’d be able to,”

Enid chuckled. “What, you mean that you don’t know how?” he could hear the smile in her voice.

“No, it’s because it’s my body. I don’t think I could handle having sex if I don’t have my right parts. Plus I don't think I'm that interested in it.”

“I forgot about that,” said Enid, shifting her head a little to get comfy on his arm. “Sometimes I forget you’re-you’re not – what’s the word?”

“Cisgender? A real boy?”

She shoved at his chest again. “Ethan Dolori, you _are_ a real boy. Just because you’re trans, it doesn’t make you any less of a guy. Sometimes I forget that you’re trans because when I see you, all I see is a boy. I can’t imagine you as a girl or anything like that. It’s weird and I don’t like it. I don’t know how you dealt with having to come to terms with it and trying to find a name that’d suit you.”

“Eli thought of it,” he said quietly.

“What?”

His eyes felt hot and stung. He was really getting sick and tired of crying all the time. “Eli. He thought of my name. When I told him, he asked if I’d have a different name because he said that since I’m a boy, I should have a boy name. He said he never liked my girl name and then just came up with _Ethan_. He said we could be the two Es. Then we thought that we should use Mom’s maiden name, Dolori, because we didn’t like Jason. Eli Lucas Dolori and Ethan Dolori.” He wiped at his face with his free hand, having to pause as the emotions bubbled to boiling point inside him.

Beside him, Enid was quiet for a moment or two. “Eli sounds awesome.”

“Best brother I could’ve asked for. He was such a little shit though.”

“I think little brothers are designed to be little shits,” she said. She placed a hand on his chest, fingers like electricity on his skin. “I’m gonna sleep.”

“Night.”

Ethan was awake for a long time after that. He had been able to tell when Enid had finally dropped into her sleep from how her body had relaxed and her breathing had steadied itself. Carefully, he removed his hearing aids. With her beside him, it made it easier for him to rest.

They had both changed from how they had been when they had first met each other. Enid spoke a lot more, and somehow had more energy to her. She wasn’t as much of a closed book as before; it was getting easier to read her, and maybe that was a good thing. Ethan knew that he had changed a lot, he couldn’t have stayed the same as before. He’d let himself open up to the people around him, had stayed with them.

He'd not gone after Eli.

The tears were sudden and stung his eyes so badly it blinded him. How could he have not gone after Eli? His brother had been the most important person in his life. But it seemed that life had kept getting in the way, stopping him from doing anything. First, he’d been shot, needed that to recover, then the Saviors had returned, and he’d been taken away and now he’d only just gotten free … and now he and the others were to go to war with the Saviors. Ethan couldn’t risk leaving the community he was in without someone else with him or a pack of other people. There were too many risks.

Ethan couldn’t go after Eli.

He tried not to cry so hard as he sobbed himself into sleep. He’d let his brother down and let his mother down too. Ethan Dolori was a horrible person.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the next day and Ethan was outside. But, not within the walls. He’d just upped and left, and he’d been walking for who knew how long. He hadn’t even said anything to his friends, he’d just gone. Someone, maybe Kal, had opened the gates and let him leave. Ethan wasn’t sure how he’d been walking and not been attacked; he had gotten out of the gates and now he was there. It was weird.

But he kept on walking.

It felt like the roads were elongating, going on for ever. His hands felt weird and the sun was just pressure on his skin. He couldn’t tell if he could feel the heat of it. Ethan felt weirdly numb.

Just walking and walking and walking. All he was was the movement.

Walkers appeared in his path, but he ignored them, just as he guessed he’d ignore the Saviors if they found him. Time felt odd and he was sure the day was getting longer and longer with each step he took. But Ethan didn’t really have it in him to care.

He’d been walking for so long that he’d walked past Alexandria and back to the road where he had last seen Eli.

The car was still there. Of course it would still be there. Why did he think it’d move?

Ethan made his way towards it, but the walk there felt eternal. He thought he felt dread in his stomach, but he couldn’t quite tell. Something was off. The sun was blazing away behind him, but he couldn’t feel the heat on the back of his neck. He felt cold instead.

It felt like his heart had shifted into his throat and he peered into the car, and it brought back the fear of when he’d first woken. Eli had been there. Ethan opened the car door and sat inside, trying hard to see if he could smell Eli’s scent in the car. It was musty and old, and Eli was gone.

Ethan couldn’t tell if he cried or not. He might’ve let out screams and sobs or something else more animalistic, but it was hard to distinguish what had happened. He didn’t understand why he was in the car, why he’d left the Hilltop and gone all that way just to be surrounded by ghosts.

When he looked around the car again, Eli was there. Ethan frowned. How had Eli gotten there? He was sat in the passenger seat in the front of the car, staring ahead of himself. Eli’s knife was embedded in the armrest in the car, and he was being oddly silent.

“Eli?” he asked, but his voice sounded oddly distorted and distant, it echoed in the back of his mind. “Eli, it’s me,” he said, reaching over to touch his brother’s shoulder gently.

Eli turned around and smiled at him. He was alive.

His face was bright again, he looked a little older and he needed a haircut. Eli looked more like his mother than he had ever before, he certainly had her dark hair, eyes and features. He most definitely had her smile. Nothing about him resembled Jason Albright.

“Ethan!” he exclaimed, then clambered over the armrest and collided with Ethan. He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.

“You’re alive,” said Ethan, relief flooding over him. He grinned, hugging Eli in return before he pulled away to look at his brother’s face again.

But then it wasn’t Eli’s face.

The walker snarled and bit into his neck and then there was blood –

Ethan woke with a start, jerking harshly. Beside him, Enid shifted, frown on her face as she got comfortable again.

He let out an unsteady breath, free hand going over his face to wipe away the sweat and tears from his face. Despite it being so warm in the room, the thin film of sweat on his body and the heat from Enid beside him, he felt ice cold. It was like he’d been thrown into a tub of ice.

He’d actually thought he’d found Eli. He’d been right there in his arms. It had felt so real.

But it had just been a dream. It wasn’t the first time Ethan had dreamt of Eli, but that had been the most realistic. Though now the longer he stayed awake, the longer it started to fade away. The only thing that had him in a state of shock was the image of walker-Eli going and biting into his neck. The snarls rung in his broken ears. He groaned and turned and stayed a little closer to Enid, who seemed to sense his struggles in her sleep and put her arm around him, pulling him closer to her.

Even when she was asleep, Enid knew what to do.

It took him longer to fall asleep, but he managed it.

 

* * *

 

 

Enid had a knowing sort of look on her face in the morning. She was eating some breakfast with him, sitting outside on one of the benches outside of Barrington House. “What?” he asked, knowing full well that he’d not get the answer straight unless specifically asked. “You’ve got that look on your face again. What’s on your mind?”

“Last night was weird,” she said. “You woke me up a few times and then you woke up, I think. I felt the tension in you and I figured you’d had a nightmare.” She finished up her breakfast and took Ethan’s empty plate and put it on hers.

“Yeah. Was weird. I’ve had similar ones, but it wasn’t any less pleasant,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “What’re we doing today?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Helping around, I guess. Oh, did you see Rosita arrive at any point?”

Ethan frowned. “No, why, is she here?” he asked. She nodded her head once, then pointed over to where she and Sasha were standing, talking. “Wonder why she’s here,”

The people of Hilltop were training. They were practicing knife throwing, and since Ethan was considered an expert on the topic – after hitting bullseye after bullseye without so much as a glance, not to mention seeing him hit walker after walker as he had done before being with Alexandria or even the Hilltop – he was made to try and educate them. Ethan wasn’t very good when it came to teaching people; he’d gotten adjusted to teaching kids how to do those things. But they tried.

Whenever it was his turn to throw a knife, he’d have to talk them through the motions, telling them how he was holding the knife and the amount of power he’d put into each throw. It seemed only Enid, Maggie and Sasha were actually taking in any of the words he said; everyone else just looked a little baffled. So naturally, he’d had to correct everyone’s grips on the knives, showing them how to hold it and even recommended a stance for them to use whilst going through the action.

“Why do we have to stand stupidly when you don’t even bother?” one cocky Hilltop colonist asked.

Ethan raised an eyebrow at the guy and then threw a knife at the target. He didn’t need to see to know that he’d hit the bullseye again. “Maybe because I was out there, and I’ve been doing it at walkers for so long that it appears I might not even have to look at my damn target.” He gestured and glanced out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t actually right on the bullseye, but it was mere millimetres away that it was more or less impossible to notice. It wasn’t like he needed to be spot on when it came to aiming at the walkers. “You’ll need the stance so that you don’t throw yourself off balance when you throw the knives and so it will actually be _easier_ for you to take aim and throw.”

Glancing at Maggie, he saw she was looking at him with something akin to pride.

It was nice to see that someone he looked up to was proud of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan’s days were soon filled with multiple things; knife throwing lessons, helping Earl with the weapons he made, keeping Daryl company (and making sure he didn’t turn into a hermit crab), and even lessons with Jesus. Those ones were the ones he looked forward to the most – he was allowed to try and beat the shit out of Jesus.

He was a good instructor and helped Ethan perfect parts of his movements that he hadn’t gotten quite right. As good as Ethan was with his fighting skills, he had only learnt it on the fly during the apocalypse. So with someone who actually knew what to do with defence helping him get better, it was greatly appreciated.

But with as much amusement it brought, there were still some downsides, like how sparring with Jesus felt near impossible to win. Jesus was nice about it, knowing Ethan was experienced in his own way, but not quite properly experienced in how to defend himself without somehow getting himself hurt.

So when Jesus managed to knock him to the floor for the umpteenth time that day, Ethan was getting a little tired of it. “You’re a douchebag,” he grunted, feeling weird without his hearing aids in. He and Jesus had both decided that they didn’t want to risk damaging the BTEs if Ethan took a tumble and somehow broke them. So now he was disadvantaged without his hearing.

‘You’re getting better,’ Jesus signed, speaking the words as he went. He held out his hand and Ethan took it, so the man could pull him to his feet. ‘Just watch where I put my feet.’

“You say that but I’m also having to watch where you put your fists,” he said, rubbing at his jaw. Ethan looked over at Jesus and smiled, huffing out a laugh. “S’pose if I ever get into some shit, at least then I might be able to hear the bastard approach.”

Jesus nodded his head once, then offered Ethan some water. He took it with a quick, signed ‘thanks’ and drank deeply before he handed it back over. “Are we done for the day?” he asked before he wiped the sweat off his face. He’d gotten awfully sweaty with each day of their sparring. But it did help him get a little fitter; his general body strength was already improving vastly, and it felt like muscles were properly forming in his arms once more.

With using his bow and fighting Jesus, Ethan supposed his upper arms and shoulders would soon be where he’d have the most strength; it wasn’t easy pulling back a bowstring and keeping it steady. But it was admittedly nice to get into the swing of things there, especially with Jesus helping him in any way the man thought possible.

Jesus nodded in answer to Ethan’s question, signing the word ‘yes’ quickly. He reached over to where they’d left their upper layers of clothing – such as the flannel Ethan had been wearing and Jesus’ awesome jacket – and picked up the BTEs that had been atop the clothing. He handed them back to Ethan who put them in. Then promptly panicked when sound didn’t come through.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jesus signed when Ethan took them out.

“Battery’s dead,” he said, then felt his heart do a weird jolt. “Do you have batteries here for BTEs?”

Jesus looked a little worried and then searched the pockets of his jackets. Why hadn’t Ethan realised that his supply of batteries had been dwindling down? He guessed he’d been too busy with the weird life at Hilltop to actually realise it. It was filling his stomach with so much dread.

And then Jesus was holding out his hand and there were two batteries there. Ethan was quick to remove the dead batteries and put the new ones in place. When he switched them on and adjusted the sound, he was thankful to hear Jesus asking, “Do they work?”

Ethan nodded his head, panic subsiding now. “Yeah. Thanks. Why’d you even have them in your pocket?” he asked.

The man in front of him shrugged a shoulder but was smiling a little sheepishly. “Well, ever since I got to know you and knew you use BTEs, I’d been trying to scavenge anything useful for your hearing aids – I might’ve got the wrong stuff because I’m not an expert in hearing aids – but guessed that the batteries I found might be useful and kept them on me for such cases as this one.”

“You’re a saint,” said Ethan, then frowned as Jesus laughed. “I didn’t mean for that pun, shut up,” he said, but Jesus was still smiling at him. “How’re you and Daryl?” he asked, trying to change the subject to something else that might be good. Ever since they returned to the Hilltop, Daryl had been acting a little differently – and by a little, it was startlingly obvious to Ethan.

It was nice to see the care in Jesus’ eyes at the mention of the man, but it made Ethan worried when he saw something sad. “What?”

“Daryl’s a complex man. I think we both know that from our own experiences. And I know to give him his space when he wants it, it’s just … he’s acting different, which would be OK, except it’s not doing anyone any good,”

Ethan nodded his head. “Yeah I noticed that too. He was fine at the Kingdom, dunno why he’s being like this now he’s here. I thought he’d be happy to be here cos he’d be with you.” Ethan couldn’t help the smirk on his face when he saw Jesus blush at his comment. “Want me to try and stare him into submission?” he asked. “Get him to tell me what’s up by doing what he’d do if it was me?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Where is he, I’m gonna figure this shit out. Dramatic hick.”

Jesus snorted at Ethan’s choice of description of Daryl Dixon.

It wasn’t particularly hard to try and find Daryl. He was sitting in broad daylight after all. He was sharpening his knife and pretending that he couldn’t hear Ethan approaching.

From the looks of things, it was gonna be complicated to try and get through to him.

“Y’know, I know you heard me coming because I was walking loud enough that I could hear. So what’s pissed in your cereal the last however long we’ve been here?” he asked, coming to sit down beside Daryl, putting his back to the gates, unlike Daryl who was facing the gates. He was glad that Daryl at least stopped sharpening his blade.

And yet Daryl didn’t answer. He had his gaze down on the sharpener and his knife but wasn’t looking up at Ethan. Ethan sighed through his nose and pinched the bridge of it, trying to grasp just how hard it’d be to try and get through to Daryl. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

Daryl opened his mouth to talk, but quickly shut it and turned his gaze to the side.

And then behind Ethan, Kal was hitting a pole against his post atop the gates. Ethan turned to look at him, squinting from the bright sun. “THE SAVIORS ARE COMING.”

Oh shit.

Ethan turned back to look as Enid ran over to them both. “We have to get Maggie,” she told Ethan and Daryl.

“Where is she?” they asked. Enid pointed and the two got up and started running after Enid, neither of them wanting to risk whatever the Saviors would bring if they saw them at the Hilltop.

“Fuck,” he muttered, mind racing with all the bad possibilities that could happen.

They got to Maggie and the four started running, right as the rest of the Saviors entered the Hilltop. They weren’t going to make it to the escape route that Sasha had made, so ran to the cellar door that Enid opened. Ethan’s stomach had managed to tie itself around his heart and lungs and it felt like the bones of his ribs were cracking.

“Just stay down there, I’ll keep them away. They aren’t the same ones who came to Alexandria,” she said as Daryl helped Ethan down the steps, Maggie ahead of them and then Enid shut the cellar doors.

Daryl kept a firm hold on Ethan, keeping him going down until they reached the bottom. “We gotta hide,” he said, looking around in the darkness, eyes managing to adjust rather quickly. “Enid will try and keep them away, but we gotta know that that’ll be suspicious, and they’ll come down here,” he told them, looking between Maggie and Daryl. He looked around. “Behind those,” he said, pointing to some shelves, and he and Maggie started to move them. Daryl was looking through a gap in the door.

“Daryl!” Maggie hissed, repeating his name several times before he relented and hid behind it too, pulling it back into its original spot.

The three stood together, hidden away in the darkness behind the shelves. Ethan rubbed his chest, feeling pain that he hadn’t thought he’d feel again. He supposed he wasn’t quite up to scratch as he thought and his sparring with Jesus had hurt him a little more than he thought it had.

It wasn’t long until the cellar doors were open, and someone started coming down the stairs. He kept looking around, picking things up, and then Ethan spotted Enid’s knife on his belt. Beside him, Daryl moved, and he put his hand on Daryl’s arm, getting some of his attention, and he shook his head once. They couldn’t risk killing this guy, if they did and they went searching for him and found him dead, then people in Hilltop would die.

Daryl lowered his knife a little, and barely gave the boy a nod, but he understood.

When the man left, he felt himself relax a miniscule amount. Daryl was quick to get out of their hide hole, but Ethan was a little more reluctant, wanting to stay behind it until Enid or one of the others of Hilltop came down and told them it was all clear.

“You were gonna kill that guy,” said Maggie, standing beside Ethan once they’d both gotten out of their hiding spot.

Daryl grunted something along the lines of, “He was gonna find us,”

Ethan shook his head. “He wasn’t, and he didn’t.”

“He deserved to die.” Daryl said, and Ethan could see him getting antsy. Ethan could feel it too. As big as the area they were in was, they were essentially trapped until someone else came and freed them. Ethan hoped that his stint back at the Sanctuary hadn’t made him claustrophobic.

“Ever since you got here, you haven’t said a word to me. Would you look at me? Please?” Maggie said and then Daryl turned a little, sniffling.

Oh no. Ethan didn’t want to see Daryl cry again. It broke him the last time he heard it happen. If he had to _see_ it, it’d tear him in two. Ethan’s brain was going a mile a minute to try and piece together why Daryl was suddenly upset and why it connected to Maggie …

_Oh._

“Daryl,” said Maggie, stepping closer to the man. Ethan remained where he stood, not sure as to what he could do in this situation. He hadn’t felt so helpless in a while, so it seemed that life was trying to remind him he was a fair bit useless.

Ethan could see the tears in Daryl’s eyes, but the man was refusing to let them fall. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking as he begun to cry a little. Ethan felt himself tear up just seeing the man like that.

Maggie shook her head, stepping a little closer. “It wasn’t your fault,” she told him. “Just how it’s not Ethan’s.”

It felt like it was most definitely Ethan’s fault Glenn had died. The man had after all taken a hit for him.

“It was,” Daryl said with a shake of his head.

It felt like Ethan couldn’t take much more of what the world was throwing at him. The guilt, seeing some of the people he cared most about breaking down right in front of him, the pain and loss he had endured. It was tiring. “No, it wasn’t. You’re one of the good things in this world. That’s what Glenn thought. And he would know, ‘cause he was one of the good things too. And, uh, I wanted to kill that guy too. I want to string them all up and watch them die. But we have to win.” She moved towards him and put her arms around him. “Help me win.”

Ethan thought that the day had been really taxing. He was just glad that they didn’t have to stay in the cellar long before Enid had come to give them the all clear. She had taken one look at Ethan when he had gotten out of it to know that something was wrong, and the minute change in her expression told him she knew.

She was quick to get him aside from Maggie and Daryl and led him to the back of Barrington House, near where the graves were. They sat down beside the closest grave.

“Ethan?”

“Daryl, earlier in the cellar,” he began with a sigh, “said that he thought Glenn getting killed was his fault and that’s why he’s been weird since we got here. Seeing Maggie’s made him feel guilty about the whole thing and he’s just the walking embodiment of guilt. And it reminded me that Glenn’s death was really my fault.”

“Ethan –”

He waved a hand at her. “We both know it’s true. He could’ve let me take the hit that Negan had been aiming for me, but we both know that Glenn’s too nice to actually let a shithead kid like me die. And I’m just upset that he actually did because now his son’s gonna grow up without a father and the kid’ll have me around and I’ll be the cause of his dad’s death.”

Enid was silent for a moment. She usually was when she needed to think things through. “You’re gonna be there for the kid?”

Ethan scoffed. “Course I am. If I live through this stupid war we’ve got on with the Saviors. It’s the least I can do. ‘Sides, the kid’s gonna be half Korean, he’s gotta at least get a good education on where half his roots come from.”

“You think it’s a boy?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden presence of Maggie’s voice. He turned around and looked up at her, squinting a little from the sun. “Yeah, I think so,”

She chuckled a little and sat beside him, and her baby bump was a little more visible than what it had been before. The baby was still growing. “I was thinkin’ … if it’s a boy, I’m gonna name him Hershel. After my dad. He died at the prison; Carl told you about that place, right?” Ethan nodded. “Didn’t deserve to die that way – no-one does. Apart from the Governor and Negan. But if it’s a girl, I’m gonna name her Beth, or maybe Susie, Sophia, Lacey or maybe Rachael. Beth died after the prison but maybe a month before you attacked Carl. Susie, Lacey and Rachael were my sisters too, but they all died early on. Sophia was Carol’s daughter, but she doesn’t talk about her much, if at all.”

“You had a big family,” he said, not knowing what else he could say.

Maggie smiled. “That’s just my sisters. I had some brothers too – Shaun, Arnold and Billy. My dad had his hands full, that’s for sure.” She laughed again, and it was sad and reminiscent. “Did you just have Eli?”

“Yeah, but sometimes one of Jason’s brothers and his kids would come ‘round. They were assholes.” He felt himself smile despite himself. “Omma, she – she always tolerated kids. Usually loved them to pieces, but Damien’s kids were horrible. She’d just smile and pretend she was happy, but whenever she caught my eye, she’d switch to Korean and near enough chew them out to me. She’d have to do it when they weren’t listening, though because they all had that thought of if you’re in America, you speak English.”

Enid had been quiet during the exchange, but she let out a quiet snort. “Bet you didn’t take that well.”

“Child me was stupid. He said that once when I was five and for a week after, I spoke in Korean. Whenever he’d snap at me, I’d switch to German, which he knew a little bit of. Was funny to know that kid me knew a language he’d learnt far better than him.”

“I’m glad you’re here. You’re safe here.” Maggie said, managing to surprise Ethan once more.

“Safe with you,” he said. Maggie put her arm around him and pulled him close; he fell into the easy embrace.

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl and Ethan realised that Sasha and Rosita had vanished. It had admittedly taken a little while to notice, but they’d both come to the conclusion at the same time when they found neither of the women in Jesus’ trailer or in Barrington. They both got their bows and went into Barrington House and saw Jesus as he left Gregory’s shitty office. “Everything OK?” the man asked, expression changing when he saw the two approaching.

“Where’s Sasha and Rosita?” the two asked in tandem, hands on their bows as they looked at the man in front of them. “They aren’t back in the trailer and we’ve asked around and no-one’s seen them since the Saviors arrived,” Ethan continued, looking between the two men. “Guessing they did a Carl, or some other stupid shit,”

Jesus sighed, running a hand over his beard as he looked at the two. “They can’t have gone and hidden away in their trucks, there’s no room,” he began.

Ethan groaned, hand going up in the air. “When the Saviors came, they’ll have gone through the escape hatch. They’re both hellbent on killing Negan after he killed Abraham, right?” he asked.

“We can’t go after them; we’re too weak to attack the Saviors just yet,” said Jesus, hand going over his beard. “We should go to Rick. See if they didn’t just go back there, or if he has any plan that we can use to get them out of there,”

“Cool, let’s go.”

Daryl put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, and when he looked at him, the man was shaking his head. “Y’ain’t goin’ out there. Not while the Saviors are still around. S’dark too, an’ we can’ risk yer life.”

Ethan just kind of stared at Daryl for a few seconds. “I think you’re failing to get that before I met you, I was on my fucking own. I can manage the scary dark.”

He could feel Jesus staring at him and Daryl, like he was analysing them or something to that effect. It was a little weird. “I don’ wan’ yeh to go out there. I wan’ yeh safe.”

“And what, you think I don’t want you safe?” Ethan retorted, looking at Daryl in an almost challenging way.

“Hey, let’s not piss each other off,” Jesus interrupted, hands out in front of him to try and placate them. “How’s about a compromise? I’ll go with Daryl to Alexandria, so that you know he’s safe, and you’ll stay here so he knows you’re safe.”

Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Like I have a choice? Just don’t fucking die.”


	18. Short Reunions

Ethan wasn’t quite sure as to what had gone down at Alexandria. It had taken longer than he’d expected, but he’d drifted into an uneasy sleep in Jesus’ trailer with Maggie and Enid there with him. He and Enid had once again shared a sleeping space, this time being the sofa whilst Maggie had the small bed. She’d not been happy about it, but the two teens had told her that her baby would probably prefer it if she slept on the bed. Maggie had relented not too long after that.

Even though Enid’s presence beside him comforted him as much as his comforted her, Ethan still found it difficult to sleep. He was sure that Maggie was still awake, worried for her friends and family out there in the dark world, but he didn’t say anything to her. He’d kept his eyes shut and his hearing aids had been taken off, but his mind kept him awake.

To say that he was worried about Jesus and Daryl was an understatement. After everything the two had done for him, he was deeply attached to them and without them beside him, it made his stomach tie itself around his heart. Even if his sleep was uneasy, he still managed to get some of it.

He only woke up when Enid did. They woke to find they were alone in the trailer, and it immediately made the two tense.

‘Where did she go?’ he signed to her, saying the words at the same time before he yawned. He covered his mouth as he yawned and shook his head after, hoping to wake a little more.

She shrugged but got up and looked around, then grabbed a piece of paper off the small table. End shook her head a little and then turned it around for him to read:

 

_You two need your rest, I’ve gone out._

_Don’t worry about me, I’m fine._

_I’ll either be on the wall or in Barrington,_

_Get breakfast, you both need it._

_– Maggie_

“Least she left a note.” Ethan said after he’d slipped on the BTEs and turned them on. “So … breakfast?”

Enid nodded, redoing her ponytail as he led her out of the trailer. They got breakfast and took a perimeter check on the inside of the walls before they got to the posts by the gate. Sure enough, Maggie was there, staring out at the vast openness.

“Hey,” Enid called up, waving a little. Maggie turned around to look at them and smiled. “We brought you food,” she added, and then Ethan held up the fruit he’d gotten before he threw it up for her. She caught it with ease, barely having to move to reach for it.

“See anything interesting?” he asked, putting a hand to his forehead so that he could block the sun a little. He needed a hat like Maggie’s.

She glanced over her shoulder and Ethan felt a little giddy when a smile spread over her face. “Ethan, I think Christmas came early for you.”

“I never celebrated Christmas,” he said quietly, a little confused. Enid snorted beside him, resting her forehead on his shoulder briefly. But then Kal and the others on the gate’s post pulled the gates open and then Ethan got what Maggie meant. His heart had leapt out of his chest and there was a shit eating grin on his face.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man said and held out his arms. Ethan was quick to run to him, wrapping his arms around Aaron as tears sprung to his eyes, all hot and blinding. “I missed you,” said Aaron, voice a little wobbly. He'd managed to lift Ethan off his feet in their tight embrace.

“I missed you too,” he replied, tightening his hold a little more.

He didn’t care if people were staring. He’d missed Aaron so goddamn much. They didn’t get it. Daryl would; he’d seen their companionship grow, had helped it. Aaron put him down pulled away after a moment and put his hand on Ethan’s cheek, eyes on his. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” Ethan could see fading bruises on his face, but part of his face was covered by an ever-growing beard. He’d never seen Aaron with a beard. It was a good look.

“You’re here now.” Ethan said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Good to see you, man, I missed you,”

And then to Ethan’s utter surprise, Eric appeared by Aaron’s side. He shared a smile with Ethan before he embraced him, his hug just as homey as Aaron’s. Ethan was now taller than Eric, and it was weird, but it didn’t stop him from hugging the man. God, he’d missed them both so much. He blinked away the tears, keeping his breathing even. He was just glad they were alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Carl. It made Ethan’s stomach do a funny flip.

Ethan eventually pulled away, looking between the two. “Not to be an that asshole, but why’re you here?”

“Shit went down with the Saviors,” said Aaron, standing beside the two, hand going to Ethan’s shoulder. It felt so much better now that they were there with him. His heart had ached so much for them, but now they were there with him. “Tara told us of a community – Oceanside – and we’re going to … ask for their help,”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t like that pause there. I take it they’ll be forced into helping?”

Eric shrugged his shoulders. “Rick said that he wants them to join us, especially because they have a _lot_ of guns. If they don’t cooperate …” Eric trailed off and Ethan knew what he meant. They’d take their guns.

Still, that sucked. “And you’re both going with to help?”

“Rick needs all the help he can get with this army against the Saviors. After what they’ve done to you, it’s the least that can be done,” said Aaron, eyes on the scars on Ethan’s face. “Daryl told us some of what happened to you. Said you were affected,”

He really needed to change the subject. “The only thing I’m affect by is your goddamn beard, holy _shit_.” The two laughed at him, smiling fondly. “Didn’t know you had the ability to grow a bomb ass beard,”

Ethan missed how things used to be. He could tell that things were different now – how could they not be? But it was still sad. It was different between him and Aaron and Eric, and he wished that it wasn’t. He wanted things to be how they used to be.

But they’d never be how they used to be.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesus had been kind enough to offer Ethan, Aaron and Eric his trailer so that they could catch up whilst everyone else went to work getting things ready for when they went to Oceanside. Ethan wasn’t excited for when Aaron and Eric would leave him. He’d only have them for a few short hours – or a short day, if he was lucky.

“Daryl didn’t exactly tell us what happened,” said Eric from his spot on Ethan’s right. “He just told us that if we wanted to know, we should know from you. Carl told us a little bit though; kid was a little traumatised when he came back from the Kingdom with you left behind.”

In lieu of replying, he leaned against Eric for a moment. “Jason – biological dad – he, uh, found out I’m trans, got mad a lot. Why I look like Freddy Kreuger now,” he said with a vague wave at his face. “Not the worst part, really. Negan had me given some shitty top surgery and that wasn’t fun to endure. Just added more uglier scars to all the old and new ones Jason gave me,”

The two adults were silent for a moment. “Carl told us about you having some kind of surgery when he came back from the Sanctuary. We could barely believe it. The way he described how you looked … it scared us.” said Aaron, his voice low but audible. “Eric had to help keep me sane and stop me from running right into that place and get you out,”

“And then when Rick and the others came back from the Kingdom and told us you were safe with Daryl there, it was a huge relief,” said Eric, rubbing his hand on Ethan’s side as the boy rested his head on the man’s shoulder, left hand going for Aaron’s free one. He held his hand tightly. “Just the knowledge that you were somewhere other than that damn place was good enough. But knowing that you were with Daryl … it helped us know you were truly safe.”

Ethan didn’t mean to make a degrading scoffing sound. “Ethan?” Aaron asked, turning his body to look at him. “What happened?”

“Just some prick. Richard, or Dick as I called him. He hit me in the gut, broke one of my arrows and sorta just … mildly strangled me? He also called me a tranny and tried to get me to attack the Saviors and told me to act like a man to get shit done.” He could feel the anger in the two beside him. “Don’t worry, I broke his nose.”

Aaron chuckled beside him, but Ethan could tell he was still mad that Richard had attacked Ethan. “Is he still alive?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. If he’s dead, it happened after me and Daryl came back here.” He looked between the two, having lifted his head from Eric’s shoulder. “I’m fine now. A bit messed up, but I’m fine,”

“And what about that surgery Carl said you’d gone through?” asked Aaron, the concern blatant in his voice. “You’re healing, right?”

“All healed up. I can shoot my bow Jerry got me without it hurting – much. It takes a while, but I sometimes overexert myself and the chest area is still, uh, tender sometimes. It’s not too bad,”

Silence fell on them after Ethan’s words, and he wondered what they were thinking. All he could think was how relieved he was to see them again. They’d changed a bit since he’d last seen them; Aaron was a little bruised and battered, and even had a beard growing; Eric was looking more stressed and maybe a bit thinner from what he’d been before. Ethan didn’t doubt that the Saviors had taken food from them and made life in Alexandria harder for its inhabitants.

But they were there with him. They were real and right beside him. It was beyond a relief. He couldn’t quite explain how he felt to be beside them again, but it was a good feeling.

“So … when were you gonna tell us that you and Carl are dating?” asked Eric.

Ethan choked on his own tongue. “ _What?_ ” he asked, coughing a little as he looked at the man. He was smiling, a knowing one that Ethan had seen maybe once or twice before.

“Carl’s not the subtlest person when it comes to you,” Aaron said, getting Ethan’s attention, head turning to look at him so fast Ethan’s neck cracked. “When he came back from the Sanctuary, he talked to us like we said, but there was something about the way he looked and the way he spoke. We guessed it couldn’t have been platonic,” he explained, and Ethan could feel the heat rising in his face.

He scratched at his nose, not quite sure what to do. “Well. I told Daryl. Mainly so he could tell me how him and Jesus got together.” He smiled at the amused noises that came from Aaron and Eric. God, he’d missed the way they spoke together, the light-hearted teasing, the smiles and laughter. He didn’t want them to go to Oceanside and start the war against the Saviors.

Eric smiled at him. “So Daryl’s adjusting to being with a man?”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “As well as he can do. He’s still trying to get his head around it, but Jesus is good for him. Though the man’s a little shit and basically told me they banged in the room next to mine and Carl’s when we went to the Kingdom.”

From the looks on their faces, the two men hadn’t expected Ethan to come out with that. “As much as I like the idea of talking about Daryl and Jesus’ love life, we were talking about yours,” said Aaron, then a teasing smile appeared on his face. “Do we need to give you the talk?”

“Omma beat you guys to that a few years back. I’m good. And not into sex. I’ve said that like three times now, it looks like more people are invested in my sex life than I am,” he said, which wasn’t something he thought he’d ever say.

“Who’s been asking you about your sex life?” Eric asked, amusement clear in his tone.

“You two for a start. Enid too. I made a sex joke to Daryl and Jesus and when I told Daryl about … y’know, being with Carl, I had to say that I’m not into sex since he thought I said I’d slept with him when we’d just slept together.” His eyebrows came together. “That still doesn’t sound right. We went to sleep in the same bed. There we go.”

He saw the frown on Eric’s face. “You two shared your bed when Aaron and the others went to the satellite outpost,”

Not quite knowing how else to confirm it, Ethan shot finger guns at Eric. “Yeah,” he said. “As much as I love you two, I can’t be the only one weirded out by this conversation,”

“Oh, no, yeah, this is probably as weird for us as it is for you,” Eric said with a nod, but there was a small smile on his face as he glanced over at Aaron. “At least we know you’re not gonna do anything too stupid,”

“Thanks for your faith in me,” Ethan said, only partly sarcastically. “So, what’s gonna happen now?” he asked, deciding to get to the real reason as to why they, and Rick’s group, had arrived back at the Hilltop.

They both shrugged a little. “Rick’s going to talk to Maggie, speak about getting some of the people from Hilltop to come and help us either persuade the Oceanside people or take their guns. We don’t know how that’ll go, but if we do get their guns, we’ll have something against the Saviors. If we have the people to help us, it’ll help level out our side against theirs.” Aaron explained, and probably saw the discomfort in Ethan’s face. “It’s not ideal, but we need all the help we can get, in any shape or form.”

“Yeah, I know. Just don’t die,” he said, looking between the two. “I don’t want to lose you two.”

Eric offered him a soft smile. “You won’t.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan was sat beside his mother’s grave. There was a sort of cross on it, with nothing to distinguish it from the two on either side of it. He pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his arms on them, his chin atop his arms.

“Mind if I sit?” He shrugged, shifting a little from his spot. Carl sat down beside him and removed his hat.

The boy’s hair looked even longer than what it had been before, and he was starting to grow some hair on his chin. Ethan reached over and scratched a little at his chin, shifting some of the hairs there. “Look at you, big man,” he said, not quite sure as to what he was doing.

It still made Carl blush a little and smile. “How are you?” he asked once Ethan had taken his hand from his face, resting his head on his arms once more, but tilted his head in Carl’s direction.

“Happy and sad,” he answered. “You?”

“The same,”

Ethan nodded his head, then knocked his shoulder against Carl’s. “Glad to see you again,”

“Me too,” the boy said. His mouth twitched, and he turned to look at the grave they were sat beside. “Your mom’s?”

He nodded, then pointed to the ones on either side of her grave. “Abraham’s and Glenn’s.” It was a little hard to say Glenn’s name, the guilt still deep in Ethan even though Maggie had reassured him he had nothing to be guilty about.

“I wish I could’ve met her, properly,” said Carl, his legs coming up to his own chest. “She knew, when she saw you. That you’re Ethan.”

“But I don’t think she knew what my name is,” he replied, eyes on his mom’s grave. “I think she always knew I was a boy – everything she did proves it. She knew I’m Ethan but didn’t know my name. And that fucking sucks.”

Carl nodded his head. “It does.”

Sighing a little, Ethan took a moment to compose himself. “You’re not subtle,” he said, then looked back over at the boy beside him. “About us. Aaron and Eric knew the day Negan took you back to Alexandria. Think they have a-a gaydar or something and you were being very soppy about me.”

“I am not soppy,” Carl said, face getting a little red tinge to it. “I was worried about you and they were too. I … they were the only people in Alexandria that’d really understand. I don’t know how my dad would react; I didn’t know how to tell him, but telling Aaron and Eric was easier.”

Ethan guessed he could agree too; telling Aaron and Eric things was about as easy as breathing, if sometimes a little … difficult.

“Them and Daryl and Maggie also know. Don’t know how Maggie knows but Daryl only knows because we shared how we punched our boyfriends first and then kissed them later.” Ethan thought a dopey, happy sort of smile went over Carl’s face as Ethan referred to him as his boyfriend, and it made him smile.

And then it clicked. “Daryl’s got a boyfriend?”

“Yeah. Jesus,” he said, nodding his head once. “They fucked in the room next to ours in the Kingdom. Jesus thought it best to traumatise me by telling me about it the next day just before you and the others left.”

It made Carl smile. “You’ve got a great relationship with all four of them. I used to look up to Daryl and idolise him – I still do, but the childish intensity isn’t there any more. He’s family. You used to have a really shit dad and now you’ve got like four of them,”

That made Ethan frown. “Four?”

“Aaron, Eric, Daryl and Jesus,” said Carl, like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t think Jesus could deal with the idea of me thinking of him like a dad. He’s too … brotherly, I guess? He did help when I needed to go shower and go to the bathroom and helped Daryl help me with anything I needed.”

He felt a laugh come out of him. Did he actually have four male parental figures in his life now? “Four dads and no mom. That’s some gay shit right there,”

“She’d still be proud of you. Not to mention happy for you,” Carl said, gaze going to the grave in front of them. “I know she would be. She’d be proud of you surviving everything you’ve been through and what Negan put you through. And she’d be happy for you because Jason isn’t here, and you’ve got those guys looking out for you.”

He couldn’t verbalise it, so he signed it to Carl; ‘And I have you,’

Because he did have Carl, and Carl was always there for him. Carl smiled at him and pressed his forehead against Ethan’s gently. Ethan was the first to pull away, and he kissed Carl’s forehead, feeling full of emotions both happy and sad.

“You gonna stay here with my mom or are we gonna see what everyone else has been doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Carl as he shifted away a little.

“I’m gonna stay here for a moment,” Carl said. His answer surprised Ethan a little, but he nodded regardless, kissed his cheek before he got up and left him by the graves.

Whilst the two had been by Min-seo’s grave, the others had been getting to work.

Ethan wasn’t quite sure what was going on; everything was hectic. There were more people than what Ethan had first thought. It made things all the more real. They were actually going to go to the Oceanside community and try their luck.

Ethan was a little sceptic about the whole thing. And it wasn’t fair. They only spent a few days at the Hilltop, preparing and going over plans and backup plans and backups to the backup plans. And it seemed that the people Ethan wanted to see the most were the busiest.

He found himself stuck on watch for the most part. Being on watch wasn’t something that bothered him; it kept him alert of his surroundings and what was going on inside the Hilltop that he couldn’t see at ground level. He could see Earl in the blacksmiths area, sometimes talking to Carl; he could see Jesus and Maggie walking together, deep in a conversation about something or other. He could even see Rick and Michonne together with Judith. Sometimes he’d spot Aaron or Eric or sometimes both of them at the same time. They’d be helping in any which way that they could, and sometimes Aaron would be with Jesus and Maggie, helping in the only way Aaron could.

But still. When the time came for them to go to Oceanside, it made Ethan’s stomach tie itself in a billion knots. They were going to Oceanside.

From what Ethan had heard about the group, it was a group of women that had managed to escape the Saviors, but only after the Saviors had killed all their men, including teenage boys. Ethan didn’t know if he ought to go or not. He wanted to be there to make sure that his family would be safe, but he didn’t want to leave Maggie alone when Gregory was around; even Enid would be going on the trip to Oceanside.

“They’ll not be able to tell what I am, right?” he asked, with a huff of laughter. Enid and Carl shook their heads at him.

“We do need someone to stay behind with Maggie,” said Enid, eyes going over to where Gregory was standing. She didn’t trust him at all, and Ethan could relate. He’d trust a walker before he ever trusted that man.

“Last time I went out, I ended up in the Sanctuary half dead,” he said, trying to joke, but neither Enid or Carl found it funny. “I’ll make sure Gregory doesn’t kill Maggie,”

Enid looked over at Carl. “Maybe you should stay too,”

“Fuck no,” said Carl with a shake of his head. “If everyone else is going, I’ve gotta make sure they’re safe. If something happened to my dad or Michonne, Aaron or anyone else … I can’t risk it,”

“Just don’t get yourselves killed. Fuckin’ idiots that you two are,” Ethan muttered, rolling his eyes a little. The two smiled at him, and Enid made a quiet laughing sound.

“The only idiots around here are you two.” Enid said, shaking her head at them before she looked at the others in the Hilltop. They were preparing to leave. “You gonna find Aaron and Eric?” she asked.

Ethan nodded his head and waved to his friends as he got up and walked over to where the two men were standing by one of the cars. “Hey,” he said once he got closer, sitting on the hood of the car.

“Hey. You alright?” asked Aaron, turning to look at him. He’d been piling some of the Hilltop’s spears into the car but stopped once Ethan had spoken.

He shrugged a shoulder in response. “Just worried and nervous, I guess,” he replied. “I’m not going with,” he added, then felt his nail scratch at the skin on his thumb again. He tried to stop, but it made him feel even more antsy, so resumed it. “Don’t think I can face going out and doing something like that. ‘Sides, someone’s gotta stay behind with Maggie and make sure Gregory doesn’t try to do anything to her. Even though we know she can hold her own.”

“Are you OK with that? Staying behind?” Aaron asked as he scratched at his beard. “You’ve got a sort of track record of not liking staying behind.”

Ethan frowned a little. “If that’s about Eli, that’s totally different. I’m just tired of this shit with the Saviors. I know we have to get the numbers and the weapons, but it kinda sucks. We’re gonna have to either take a group’s arsenal or try and get them to risk their lives to try and defeat the Saviors. And if I were their group, I wouldn’t like to go back up against them after they killed all the men in their group.”

Eric walked over to them, leaning against Aaron slightly. “If that’s the case, then you should stay somewhere safe, which means staying here,” he said with a gesture to the Hilltop. “And we want you to be somewhere safe.” he added, looking at Ethan with so much care that it made him feel weird and happy.

“Just … come back alive. Please.”

It still surprised Ethan whenever Aaron or Eric hugged him. But he welcomed the hug from Eric, holding onto him tightly, breathing as evenly as he could, trying to remember what the man smelled like, what his voice sounded like. The war with the Saviors was going to cost them, and if Ethan lost Aaron or Eric, he wouldn’t know what to do.

When Eric finally released him, he gave Ethan a soft smile, kissed his forehead then went and got into one of the other cars as Aaron hugged him. “We’ll be back before you know it, kiddo,”

“Yeah, you better,” he said, squeezing Aaron a little in their hug before he pulled away from him. Aaron smiled, hand on the back of Ethan’s head before kissing the top of his head. “See you,” he said, smiling a little at Aaron before the man went into the car Eric had gotten in.

He turned around and intended to go and see Daryl and Jesus before the two left, but when he saw them together, hidden in the shadow of Jesus’ trailer, he guessed that he shouldn’t intrude on them and their moment. He was glad that Daryl was with Jesus; maybe the man would help Daryl and make him happy.

Ethan went over to Maggie instead. She smiled at him when he approached. “You look like you could use one of these,” she said, holding out a hat similar to the one she was wearing. He thanked her and put it on, blocking the sun from his eyes. “Glenn used to wear these kinds of hats. He stopped when I put an egg in one and crushed it on his head.”

“Wh-why did you do that?”

“It was when we first met, or a few weeks after, after Carl had first gotten shot. My dad, he – he used to think walkers were still human in some way. Glenn found out and told Rick’s group and shit went down because of a man called Shane. But I was so pissed at Glenn that I just put the egg in his hat and put it on his head.”

He smiled a little. “Sounds like something out of a TV drama,” he said as Rick came walking up to them both. “I fucking miss TV.”

“Me too,”

Rick smiled at Ethan when he finally got close enough. “You’re looking better, Ethan,” he said, then turned to look at Maggie. “We’ll be out of your hair soon enough. I just wanted to thank you for helping us prepare,”

“We need all the help we can get against the Saviors,” said Maggie, nodding her head. “Every little helps. Just be careful out there, Rick.”

“Always am. Ethan?” Rick turned back to look at the boy. “Carl wanted to see you before he left.” Ethan nodded his head, pointedly ignoring the look on Maggie’s face as he went in search of the boy.

He found him by the blacksmith stall. “Rick said you wanted to see me?” he asked, frowning a little. It had only been ten minutes since he’d last seen him.

Carl nodded and took Ethan’s hand and led him to a part of the wall surrounding the Hilltop, out of sight, hidden by some of the stalls. They both sat down, and Carl kept hold of his hand. Ethan could feel his hand shaking a little. “Carl?” he asked, worried at the nervous expression on the boy’s face.

“I was talking to Earl, the blacksmith. He offered to take me up to be his apprentice after the war with the Saviors. It’ll give me something to do and it also means I’d be here,” he looked over at Ethan. “And I don’t know where I’m going with this,” he said, scoffing a little.

“I think I’m going to stay here after the war,” Ethan said, shrugging his shoulder before he leaned against Carl. “Owe Maggie my life, and I wanna help her with the baby. And I wanna be able to punch Gregory whenever I get the chance.” He smiled, and Carl copied it. “And if you stay here too, that’d be cool. Enid’s already decided to stay here for a while. Daryl’ll stay here with Jesus and Jesus is staying because of Maggie.”

The boy nodded his head, smiling slightly. “Would you be OK with me staying here at the Hilltop?” he asked.

“W-why wouldn’t I be? It’d be like in Alexandria. Except this would be after this shit. Besides, I do like your company.” Ethan said, pulling his and Carl’s hands into his lap, running his finger around the palm of Carl's hand. “Anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I think I love you.” The words came out all stuttered and a little frantic. It made Ethan’s heart beat quicker and harder. He could feel it beating hard against his sternum.

“What?” he asked, staring at Carl with widened eyes. He couldn’t just drop something like that right before he was to go out and potentially get hurt or killed by a different community. He couldn’t say something like that when they were fighting the Saviors.

Carl must’ve noticed the freaked out expression on Ethan’s face (how could he not?) and laughed a little breathily. “Sorry. But I think I do. I mean. I loved you in a different way. Like the way you do with people close to you, but I think I love you the way my dad loves Michonne.”

Ethan felt like he was going to cry. He pressed his forehead against Carl’s, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold back the tears. Their hats got knocked off their heads. “You can’t say shit like that,” he said as he put his free right hand to the back of Carl’s neck. “You can’t. Not when we’re in this shit.” He inhaled deeply, trying to compose himself.

“I know it’s probably stupid to tell you when we’re against the Saviors. But I wanted you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same way, or don’t want to say it back, I just wanted you to know.” Carl said. Ethan laughed a little, then pulled away a little, opening his eyes to look at Carl.

“You’re an idiot, pretty boy,” he said quietly, almost unable to hear himself speak. “After this shit with the Saviors is over and things are settled, tell me that again and I’ll give you a reply to it.”

Because it had thrown him for a loop and he didn’t know how to respond. As much as he cared about Carl, it had frightened him. It was an insane concept to Ethan that Carl would feel something so intense about him. A part of him wanted to run away, because if Carl truly did feel that way towards him, it was something too big for Ethan to comprehend.

But now that he’d said that, it made Ethan so worried about him now that he was going out there to try and get Oceanside to help.

Ethan hated whenever his stomach had a terrible sinking feeling. He didn’t want Carl to go out now.

“Will you be OK?” asked Carl. Ethan nodded, pressing his lips together momentarily as he grabbed his hat and put it back on. They got up when the people in the main area of the Hilltop got louder and car engines started up.

“Come on,” said Ethan, leading Carl to where the others would be. He came to a stop by one of the stalls and looked at the boy beside him. “Come back safe, pretty boy.”

Carl smiled and nodded his head. “Of course.”

And then he kissed Ethan. Right in front of everyone. He was grinning when he’d pulled away. It’d only been a quick, chaste kiss and it’d taken Ethan a moment to realise what he’d done.

“I’ll be back soon.” Carl promised. Then he turned and got into the car with Michonne and Rick, who had most definitely seen their son kiss Ethan.

Was Carl going to get the talk? That would be hilarious to witness. Ethan almost wanted to go along, just to see the infamous Rick Grimes give his son The Talk … but then had a sneaking suspicion that if he went along, he’d get one too.

“Asshole.” Ethan muttered, signing ‘oh my god’ to himself before he went and returned to Maggie, pulling the hat down over his eyes. “Don’t you dare say anything. I can’t believe he did that,” he said as the cars drove out of the open gates of the Hilltop.

He could just see Maggie smiling out of the corner of his eye. “It’s cute. You two deserve to have some kind of happiness like that,” she said, turning her head to look at him as the gates shut. “You remind me of Glenn with that hat on,”

Ethan’s gut felt like it just sunk. “Uh …”

“He’d be glad you and Carl found something for yourselves in each other. He … he saw a lot of potential in you, and I think I see what he saw. Some of it might’ve gone because of what you went through at the Sanctuary, but you’re still you. You’re still the Ethan that Glenn knew and cared about. He knew what you’d be capable of, even if you don’t.”

She rubbed at her jaw a little then pulled the hat further down. “You don’t have to stay here. After the war, I mean. I know you think that you have to stay to help me protect my baby, but you’ve also got to find Eli. And if that means you go out and leave us for a while to try and find him, then that’s perfectly OK.” Maggie kept her gaze on him steady, and she seemed to be able to read his thoughts. “And I know you think that he might be dead, or something else or something _worse_. But you’ll be going out there and trying to find him. He’ll have left you messages somewhere, somehow. And you _will_ find him.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, not quite sure how to take in all of what Maggie said. He knew he wasn’t really obligated to stay, that he could just up and leave … but these people had become his family. And he couldn’t abandon family.

Ethan Dolori was beyond stressed.

 

* * *

 

 

There wasn’t all that much to do in the Hilltop, aside from glare at Gregory to make sure that he didn’t come anywhere near Maggie. Ethan supposed that he was doing an OK job, as so far, Gregory hadn’t come near her.

“Can you see that bush over there?” asked Maggie from her spot beside Ethan. He frowned, but looked in the direction Maggie was pointing in, and nodded his head a little. “I think it’s a blackberry bush. If we get it nice and early and replant it inside, we can have fresh berries for years,” she said.

Ethan’s mouth twitched in a smile. “Awesome. Let’s go and get it,”

“I like the way you think. Kal, are you OK to keep watch here?” she asked, looking around Ethan to look at the man. He nodded and said he’d be fine, and then the two got down from the post. Maggie went and got the desired tools for … uprooting it? Ethan wasn’t too sure on the terminology.

He followed Maggie outside of the walls and offered her his hand to help her down. She accepted, giving him a smile before she went to work, carefully digging around the roots of the plant. Ethan wasn’t too sure how long they had been out there, but it was almost relaxing. Of course, there was a certain tension in Ethan’s spine that only came when he was outside. But it was nice. Different. He knew the calmness wouldn’t last and that a walker would stumble across them, but for now he was OK. Until he heard the sound of footsteps on gravel. He glanced behind him and tried to hide the disgust on his face. “That dickhead is coming.” he warned, rolling his eyes as he turned his attention back to the surrounding area. There hadn’t been any signs of a walker or walkers yet, and with the lack of them, it made the tension in his spine feel all the more intense. “Wish I could turn off my hearing aids right now,” he said, earning a chuckle from her.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you outside the walls,” said Maggie, keeping most of her attention on the small plant. She hadn’t spoken until he had gotten close enough, and Ethan noted close enough that he’d be able to hear what the man’s reply would be.

“We built these walls to use them. I wanted greenery, I’d have a salad,” he said. Ethan was not going to comment about how Gregory looked like he lacked eating some of those salads. He just had to keep watch, it didn’t mean he had to be cocky.

“Then why are you here?” he said instead, and Gregory looked at him like he was just seeing Ethan for the first time. That was probably cocky, if not just rude. But with the reminder of how Gregory had looked at him the first time Ethan had met him, he supposed he could get away with a little bit of rudeness. He guessed he’d been lucky that he had barely seen the man when he’d been recovering from his surgery.

The man turned his attention back onto Maggie, but the disgust was evident on his face. “I was hoping we could talk,”

Oh, great. “Then I saw you come out here and I was concerned. A pregnant woman and a … whatever you are, you’re both a little disadvantaged out here.” Gregory said, and Ethan sighed through his nose as he gripped his knife a little tighter. Ethan would _not_ stab Gregory. “Where are your friends?”

There was a brief moment of silence as Maggie tried to find her words. Ethan risked a glance over at Gregory and caught the man staring at him. Ethan saw where the man was staring and raised his left hand, middle finger raised, up to his chest. Gregory looked away but didn’t seem ashamed to have been caught staring. They weren’t gonna tell Gregory anything too revealing, neither of them trusting the man and his word of shit. “They went out. They’re looking for something they need.” Maggie said cryptically, not bothering to look at the man.

Gregory was deciding to be a full-on dickhead and Ethan was ready to end his life if Maggie so much as glanced at Ethan to confirm it. “Without you. I’m just wondering, why are you still here, Maggie? Hmm, with Carson gone?” Ethan sighed again, if a little louder and aggressive compared to the last one. He clenched his jaw, trying to physically bite back what he wanted to say to the man.

“I heard you were gonna get him back. That not true? Was it just something you said?” she retorted, finally turning to look up at him for a short moment. Ethan wished they were back inside already, the blueberry bush in its new home.

Ethan watched as Gregory put his hand on the hilt of his knife that had been hidden away by his coat. He eyed the man up, the way he was looking at Maggie made Ethan want to send him either back into the Hilltop or out there with the dead. “Maggie, you’ve got to start trusting me, you know?”

“Pfft, trust you,” muttered Ethan, looking around their surroundings again. Some of the branches in the trees moved and he guessed they’d eventually have some company. Maybe less than a minute. “Maybe a minute?” he asked, glancing over at Maggie, nodding his head towards the trees. She nodded in understanding, whilst Gregory looked confused.

But Gregory either didn’t hear Ethan or didn’t acknowledge him on his previous statement. Either was fine with him. “People are tense and worried. It would be a hell of a lot better if we could present as a united front,”

“It would be a lot easier if we actually were a united front,” said Maggie, looking up at Gregory once more. From the way it looked, Gregory didn’t want to kneel to Maggie’s level as she did the hard work and he stayed higher up than her. It didn’t exactly seem like an equal conversation, but Ethan supposed that there never was one when Gregory was involved.

Fucking hell, even now Gregory didn’t want to be on the same level as her when talking to her. He wasn’t even going to help her with the plant. He then surprised Ethan by putting his hands on his knees and leaned down a little, but the action looked almost mocking, refusing to actually kneel beside her. He was still higher up than her. Sometimes Ethan hated picking things up on sight and analysing them too much. Or maybe he just really hated Gregory.

“You’re right. I need to be more open on working together. I apologise.” Ethan coughed, and it sounded an awful lot like ‘ _bullshit’_. “I never intended for things between us to come to this point.”

“I appreciate that. It’s never too late to change, you know that?” Maggie said. “If you’re serious, I can come by later and we can talk more.” She resumed trying to get the plant out and then looked back at Gregory. “I thought this would just take a second. Could you stand watch with Ethan? Four eyes are better than two, even if Ethan’s sight is amazing.”

“Yeah, OK,” the man said, taking out his knife. He moved forwards a little and Ethan grabbed his arm and glared at him, and the man turned away, hand over his eyes as he sort of came in on himself, like he couldn’t do it. Ethan shook his head as Gregory turned away and watched their surroundings and saw a walker appear and heard Gregory yelp.

Both Ethan and Maggie got their weapons out. But Gregory came forward, arm out to Maggie. “I’m here to protect the pregnant lady and the disabled kid, I don’t need the pregnant lady and disabled kid to protect me.” he said, but Ethan had a feeling in his gut that they’d have to protect him anyway. The man was utterly useless after all.

Ethan wondered if Gregory had ever killed a walker before or had even stepped out of the gates of the Hilltop before. He had chickened out of killing a woman, so Ethan supposed that he’d never actually killed anything. He looked at Gregory’s expression and decided that he’d never done either of those things. He supposed this would be interesting to watch.

“Have you ever killed one before?” he asked, just to be sure.

“I wouldn’t be here if I haven’t,” Gregory replied, but Ethan still thought that was a bit of bullshit.

Ethan turned to look at Maggie as she stood beside him. “I think he was gonna try and kill you just then,” he said. “I’d bet my life on it.”

Maggie shrugged a shoulder. “He can’t hurt me. I’ve got my guardian angel right here,” she said, then put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him close to kiss his forehead. It made his stomach tie in knots and he nearly burst into tears right then. “We’ll keep an eye on him. He won’t hurt me.”

Gregory looked at the two, looking scared, but refused to let them kill it, until he got up close to it. Maggie went for that one and as she got to it, another two came towards Ethan and Gregory. The one that went for Ethan was scarily big.

They both got knocked to the floor and Ethan groaned, his knife going into the walker’s head as Gregory started yelling for help. He pushed the walker off and scrambled to his feet, turning around to stab the walker on top of Gregory.

“You haven’t killed one before,” he said, hiding his amusement.

He looked up and saw several people from the Hilltop who’d been outside the walls returning.

“He hasn’t killed one before. He’s learning,” said Maggie.

“That’s not what he told us,” they replied. Ethan shook his head, biting back the smirk as he turned to Maggie.

“Let’s just get this thing ready and planted inside. Gregory … just fuck off back in,” he advised. He and Maggie turned back to the growing plant and he kept a close eye on the trees to their left, in case any more walkers came out of them.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan was glad when Jesus and Enid had returned. Enid had walked up to him into his waiting arms and hugged him in return. He was pleasantly surprised when Aaron and Eric had come to hug him as Rick and Maggie talked, deciding which guns each community would have. Someone had also brought Judith, and Ethan was glad to see her again. But with all the good, they had also come with some bad news.

“How was it?” he asked, scratching at his eyebrow as he looked at the two men.

“It didn’t go the way we had hoped. We have the guns, but not the people,” Aaron said, not looking too pleased. “Are you going to come back with us?” he asked, deftly changing the subject.

It caught Ethan off guard. “What?”

Eric smiled at him, his hand resting on Ethan’s shoulder comfortingly. “It’s not quite the same without you at home. It’s too quiet and lacks all your terrible jokes,”

“My jokes are hilarious, shut up,”

Aaron made an ‘ehh’ kind of noise, shaking his head a little, but he was smiling. “Don’t you remember the dog joke?” There was a flash of light, but the three ignored it; it wasn’t anything bad – there had been no commotion over it.

“Of course I do. One of my best.”

“Or worst,” Eric teased, ruffling his hair. “Rick’s back,” he said, the light-heartedness slipping away. “I take it you’ll be staying here?”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, with Maggie. I just … I can’t not be there for her, not after what happened. Especially since we think Gregory tried to kill her today but chickened the fuck out. But you guys are my home, so you’ll see me soon enough once this shit is over.”

It was hard to let them go. Ethan barely realised after that he hadn’t even seen or spoke to Carl. It made his heart ache a little. Especially because of what he’d said the day before.

But they’d left Judith in their care in the Hilltop, and he reckoned he should let her remember him again.

“So we don’t have Oceanside, but we have their guns.  And Negan has Sasha. Daryl wants us to trust Dwight, Rick wants us to stay here so there’s another card to play, another safe place the Saviors think they control. But he doesn’t know that Gregory’s gone, that maybe he’s telling them things that will make them think something else.” Ethan said, frowning a little. Kal had returned with no Gregory and a pissed off look on his face. He wasn't sure when Gregory had gone, but he was sort of glad the man wasn't around.

“Yeah, it’s all about to happen,” said Jesus from his spot beside Ethan. They, Judith, Maggie and Enid were inside Barrington once more, having one of their important discussions.

“You’re thinking of leading the Hilltop over there to fight,” said Enid, looking at Maggie. Judith babbled to herself on the floor.

“I am. If Negan finds out they’re planning something, they’re gong to need help even with those scavengers on their side,”

Ethan frowned. “Negan’s got, what, all the communities around here? He had the people in Oceanside, has the Hilltop, the Kingdom and now Alexandria. The scavenger people could be under his control, could take all their guns and betray Rick. I don’t trust people who live in garbage,” he said, looking between the people around him. “Rick’s gotta be wary of that possibility, right? That they have their own deal with Negan,”

“Maybe,”

“Well,” Jesus said. “You’ll have to decide right now, it’s a very tough decision, and with what Ethan’s just said, we might not be able to risk not going and helping them.” He glanced over at the boy and smiled. “You’re very observant,”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Gotta be if I can’t hear shit,”

Judith made a little noise on the floor. “How do I?” Maggie asked, eyes on Jesus.

“I don’t know. I just know you can.” Maggie went to pick up Judith, but Enid beat her to it.

“It’s fine, I got it. Come on, Ethan. I’ll even cut your hair,” she said with a short smile.

He nodded and went to leave with her but turned around and looked at both the adults. “We should talk to Ezekiel, if he’s not already changed his mind and is coming to us with his help.”

He and Enid went and sat in Jesus’ trailer. On the bed, Judith was asleep, wrapped in Ethan’s flannel, drooling on it slightly. Enid sat behind Ethan, on the sofa as she cut at his hair. She was cutting shorter than what he’d ever had it before, and it kind of excited him. “How’s your chest?” she asked quietly.

“Alright. It doesn’t hurt like before. I’m more or less healed up. Physical activity like running is still a pain in the ass. But I’m guessing I’ll be doing some of that soon. Might be able to kick some Savior in the face.” She chuckled from behind him, then her hand brushed over the back of his neck, sweeping any hair onto the towel Ethan was sat on. She cut a little more off, tilted his head to the left and cut a little more.

“I’d pay to see you kick a Savior in the face,” she told him, then shifted so that she was in front of him. “I’m nearly done,” she added, cutting at his fringe. Enid ran her hand through his hair, cutting some parts before she blew the hair from his face. “Done.” She smiled at him.

She sat beside him, scissors between her hands as she rested her wrists on her knees. “If Maggie’s smart, and she is, we’re gonna be going to war tomorrow. And I’m gonna go. You, Judith, Aaron and Eric, Daryl and Jesus … everyone, I gotta do my part to keep them safe and kill the people who are gonna try and kill them,”

“What about Carl?” she asked, turning her head to look at him. “Especially Carl, right?”

Ethan took a moment to try and still his erratic heart before he nodded. “Especially Carl.” They leaned on each other’s shoulders, Ethan resting his head on top of hers. “Enid, you know I love you, right?”

He felt her tense up from beside him. “Of course. And I love you too. But I don’t want you saying that if you think we’re gonna die tomorrow.”

Ethan scoffed a little. “No, I just … I don’t think I ever really tell you – or anyone else for that matter – and I figured you ought to know. You’re one of the first people I met. And I love you.”

“You’re so attached,” she said, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “Remember when we barely spoke to people? Those were simpler days,”

“Indeed,” he said in agreement, feeling a smile form on his face. He leaned his head back onto the sofa behind them, gaze on Enid. “Back when Carl wasn’t my boyfriend and didn’t scare me with words.”

“What do you mean?” Enid asked, and he could see the minute frown making its way on her face. “Did he say something to you?”

Just thinking about it made Ethan’s stomach feel weird.  “He … he said he thinks he loves me, the way his dad loves Michonne. And he was OK about it when I didn’t respond to it. Said how it was OK if I didn’t want to say it back or didn’t feel it in return, just that he thought I should know. And that’s scary.”

Enid put her arm around him and he leaned into her. “The infamous Ethan Dolori, defeated by teenage love.” He could fucking hear her smiling. He couldn’t help but smile too.

“You tell anyone that, and they’ll never know where you disappeared.”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day wasn’t good.

When Ethan woke, he woke with dread in his stomach. He knew something bad had to have happened in Alexandria. Or would happen. He wasn’t sure, but he knew they needed to go. Maybe Maggie would have them go to war today.

He wasn’t surprised he woke up so tense.

Jesus was trying to make Ethan eat. “You have to. We know that Aaron, Eric and Daryl will have my hide if they know I didn’t manage to make you eat,” he said, pushing the plate towards him. Jesus raised an eyebrow at Ethan expectantly, crossing his arms on top of the table.

“Yeah, and Daryl’ll do the same if I don’t get you to eat,” he said, but took one half of the sandwich. “You need to eat too, asshole,” he muttered, taking a bite into the sandwich.

“I suppose you’re right,” said Jesus, taking the other half. “Today is going to be … intense. We need all the strength we can muster. Are you still good with a bow?”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “I’m insulted that you’d think otherwise. I’m good with whatever weapon you put in my hands.”

“What about a semi-automatic?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m good with it. Prefer my bow though. Easier for me to deal with, but I can shoot any gun you give me.” He finished off the sandwich and wiped his hands on his trouser legs. “We’re going today, aren’t we?” he asked, wiping at his mouth. “Seems as good a day as any, right?”

The man opposite sighed and put down his half-eaten sandwich. “I’d much rather prefer you to stay here where I know you’ll be safe. You’ll even have Judith to care for and have as entertainment.”

“I can’t. My track record with looking after kids isn’t great,” he said, but he could hear the hurt in his voice and knew Jesus had heard it too. Ethan’s face probably screamed guilt. “I’ll feel better knowing that I’m going to get rid of some assholes. ‘Sides, we’ve got to make sure Daryl doesn’t get himself killed. Aaron and Eric too, because they’re selfless idiots.”

“You know it’s not your fault – the situation with Eli.”

Ethan laughed and wiped at his eyes. “Don’t kid yourself. I should’ve been on watch that night, seen them pricks come and steal him away. Whatever’s happened to him is my goddamn fault. And we both know it. If he’s dead … then that’s another person I’ve managed to get killed. So let me add some evil pricks to that list so then maybe I’m doing something good.” He stood up and walked over to the open doorway and went to leave before he turned back around to look at Jesus. “You better finish your food too, asshole.”

He left. Ethan didn’t stop until he was beside Enid. “You think you can manage going to Alexandria today?” she asked as he helped her get the guns in order.

“Yeah. When all this is over, I can cry a little,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “How long 'til we leave?”

“Ten minutes.” Enid said, and Ethan saw how her hands were shaking. He took hold of them gently. Her hands were so cold, and it felt like his were burning hot. “Today isn’t going to be fun. Don’t you dare die today,” she said, squeezing his hands tightly. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t. Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated and make it more enjoyable to write this fic. Happy reading!


	19. Guns Fire

Ethan was beside Maggie as they approached the community that had first taken him in. “There’s gunfire,” she said, and Ethan couldn’t hear it. They were far enough away that he couldn’t. But he could feel the vibrations of it on the pavement and in the air, bouncing off his skin. “We need to get closer, I don’t like the sound of it,” she said, and their large group started their move forwards. On their way to Alexandria, they had come across Ezekiel and the people of the Kingdom. Ethan knew that the king had made the right choice in coming and helping them, even if there were going to be horrible repercussions.

“Wait,” said Ethan. “We need to see if the gates are clear before we go in,” he said. Maggie was looking at him with trust and it scared him. It reminded him of Eli; he’d been the last person to look at Ethan with as much trust. “I’ll lead us there and get us in. Ezekiel, can you try and make sure Shiva doesn’t, like, roar or something? If the Saviors hear her, our advantage is fucked.” The king nodded his head and then Ethan was leading the way.

He was light on his feet. Ethan kept a steady, calm grip on his machine gun, the weight of it heavy in his hands. He made his way to the gates of Alexandria without making a sound and was partly relieved to see that there were no Saviors there at the gates. Though the gates were open, which never meant anything good, especially since no-one was on watch. Ethan noted how the gunfire had stopped. He turned around to look behind him and gave the all-clear whistle. The others came through and followed him into the community.

Rick and the rest of them had nothing in comparison to the Saviors. And it seemed that the garbage people had either all been handicapped or betrayed Rick’s group.

As they ventured further and further into Alexandria, they came across some Saviors, but Ethan had been quick to put them out, killing them silently. He stopped them from sounding an alarm to the rest of the Saviours and Negan. “There, there’s the garbage people and the Saviors,” he said, nodding to the edge of the house they were hiding behind. “Ezekiel?” he asked, the king nodded.

“Shiva, attack,” he said, letting the tiger free. Shiva leapt forwards and attacked one of the Saviors. Ethan ran forwards, machine gun held high and he let loose, running forwards. He could hear Ezekiel shouting, but he couldn’t hear him over the gunfire. It was hurting his hearing, but he kept shooting, racing towards where Rick and Carl were.

“GET THE FUCK DOWN!” he shouted at the two, slinging the gun over his back as he ran and jumped onto the Savior who had been aiming at Rick. Ethan cut the man’s throat and fell with him, slamming his knife into the man’s head before he looked up at the two Grimes. He threw a gun to Carl who took it as Rick grabbed the fallen gun from the man Ethan had just killed.

Ethan raised his gun again and began to shoot at the Saviors and the garbage people, taking them down with one or two shots. He wasn’t letting these fuckers live. He felt Carl say something beside him, but he couldn’t hear him over the gunfire and the ringing in his ears. The two were back to back, both shaking as they kept their guns raised; the bullets leaving with a kick the two had long since gotten used to.

And then Ethan saw his father. His blood ran cold and it felt like he was cemented where he stood. He raised his gun, and took aim, only for Carl to push him aside, knocking them both to the floor. “What the fuck?” he yelled, pushing Carl off him.

“They nearly shot you,” he replied angrily, but Ethan saw the panic and fear in Carl’s eyes. The two boys got up and hid behind a car, jumping up to shoot at the garbage people and the Saviors when they got their chances to. “The Kingdom and the Hilltop?” asked Carl, head close to Ethan’s. The proximity and the loudness of his voice had been enough for Ethan to catch – just.

The boy shrugged a response. “We were all coming here anyway, banded together and I led them inside.” He looked around the car and shot at another Savior. They went down. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Carl’s arm, pulling him out, towards another hiding spot to shoot from.

They noticed how the Saviors and the others were retreating – it wasn’t hard to miss, what with their frantic shouts and screams and the retreating gunfire. Shiva prowled towards them, growling, blood dripping from her mouth. Ethan held out his hand to her and she leaned into his touch. “Good girl,” he said, scratching behind her ear. “Get the Saviors and the garbage people,” he told her. She let out a roar before she leapt over the car they were hiding behind and bit the neck of a Savior.

“What are you, a tiger whisperer?” asked Carl as they ran around the car, on the opposite end of where Shiva was. The two shot at some of the Saviors, taking several of them down.

Ethan shrugged and nodded. “It’s because I’m Asian.”

The two got up and ran, shooting each of the people they saw. As Ethan looked around again, trying to see any more Saviors, he saw some smoke bombs had been started inside the walls, but the two boys kept going. Ethan looked up the scope and saw some people climbing over the fences and he took the shot. He injured one of them.

They regrouped with the others and ran down one of the roads, spreading out to try and clear the way of the Saviors and the garbage people. Ethan found himself with Gabriel, running towards the gate, before people on the watchtowers shot at their feet. Ethan looked up through the scope and took out three of the four before the fourth one ran away. He felt a hand pull him back by the scruff of his neck and then a shot went off, the bullet leaving a mark where Ethan had been. He nodded his thanks to Gabriel. Someone shut the gates of Alexandria and Aaron and some others ran forth to try and open it, but it was locked.

Ethan walked over to Aaron, the adrenaline he hadn’t realised he had fading, the tension in his back becoming more prominent, aching his back. “Daryl?” he called up once quiet had fallen. The man had gotten on top of one of the watch towers and was looking out to where the people had fled.

“They’re gone, all of ‘em,” he called back.

Ethan lowered his gun a little, breathing out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He felt the tiniest bit of tension leave his body.

“Glad to see you’re still kicking,” he said to Eric who had approached him. The man gave him a smile before he dropped his gun and hugged Ethan to his chest. The boy returned it, hugging him back as tightly as he could. Someone else’s hand touched Ethan’s back and he looked up and saw Aaron there, smiling even though he looked like he was close to tears.

They were finally going to get a short minute of peace and calmness; they’d bury their dead and regroup and plan once more. Which is exactly what they did.

Ethan stuck by Aaron and Eric’s sides, helping them stop their dead from turning, creating graves for the dead. They burned the dead Saviors and garbage people. None of them wanted to bury one of them inside their walls. It didn’t feel right, so their bodies were taken away to be burned.

The sun was setting, and Ethan felt dirty and sweaty and gross. But Enid was sat next to him, shoulders pressed together as they sat there on the roof of Ethan’s home ( _homehomehome_ ), both shaking from the day’s events. Neither wanted to break the silence.

“I think I like girls,” said Enid suddenly, bluntly. She looked over at him and saw him looking at her, eyebrow raised minutely. “And I think I like boys too. I mean. Ron was my boyfriend.”

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “So? If you like girls, then you like girls. If you like girls and boys, that’s chill too. But I guess that means my comment way back when is invalid,”

“What comment?” she asked, frowning. He smirked a little. “Slut.” she said, realising when she had last said that to him and what had followed suit. “Yeah, appears there’s not so many, uh, straight people. Suppressed queer folk?” she suggested, getting a rough laugh out of Ethan.

“Yes. We’re suppressed queer folk. Suppressed from the huge amount of straight from so many people. We’re slowly taking over.” he said with a slight smile. “I’m glad we got here when we did. Negan was going to kill Carl,”

Enid nodded her head once, lips pressed together. “Yeah, I saw. I’m glad we got here when we did too. I don’t know what we’d do if Carl died.” She looked over at him. “I don’t know how I’d be able to help you deal with it. And with what he said to you before – with that Oceanside business – I guess it’d make shit worse, right?”

“Maybe. Probably. But we’re alright – for now. However long that lasts.” The sun dipped behind the horizon. “Tomorrow’s gonna be hellish.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Enid said softly, then looked over at Ethan. “How’re your BTEs? You’ve been through some rough shit and they’re really important,”

He shrugged a shoulder, scratching behind his ear, below the BTE. “They’re not doing too good. I think I might need to get some more. I’m not sure how that’ll work, but the idea of being completely deaf is … beyond terrifying. Maybe we can scrounge up shit like different kinds of hearing aids and I can try and fix them up for my hearing range and see if that’ll work. But these things have been with me since the start. They’re gonna stop working one of these days. And I’m not looking forward to when that happens.”

She sighed and leaned over and kissed his cheek, then pulled him into her side. “I’ll help you. In any way I can. Promise.”

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rick, Ezekiel and Maggie were standing on a podium, talking to the crowd, talking about working together, trying to get Negan to die, but Ethan took the time to relax; after all, they were in Alexandria, his first real home. He’d been so full of tension since they started their fight, and even during the aftermath, he hadn’t been able to ease himself down. He knew that shit would go down and things would be intense. They’d buried their dead but now it was time to move on. The war hadn’t ended.

Shiva remained where she sat, to the side of the podium, looking up at Ezekiel. Beside Ethan were Aaron and Eric, and on his other side was Carl. Something touched his hand and he looked over at Carl. The boy offered him a smile, his fingers pressing against Ethan’s. Carl had been kind when Ethan had told him he couldn’t reply to his expressions of love and care and understood him and how he had to deal with things. They were still good.

Deciding to go with _fuck it_ , Ethan pushed his fingers between Carl’s until their palms touched. Their faces reddened a little at the same time, and Ethan tried not to think about how Carl’s father could definitely see it. Whatever, he’d seen them kiss before. He also tried not to think about how Eric and Aaron were staring at him with those smug looks of theirs, because they fucking knew and knew Ethan and his ways of expression.

Ethan wasn’t looking forward to the talk he would have with Rick.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where did you live before this?” asked Carl. He, Ethan and Eric were sat in the living room, having a moment of their own. Aaron was helping the others, doing what needed to be done. Eric needed a break and Ethan and Carl had to eat.

“Is that a race joke?” Ethan asked, barely hiding the amusement in his face at the horror that flashed on Carl’s face. Eric snorted a little, shaking his head as he looked back at the book in his hands.

“Asshole. No, I mean, before the end of the world. I know you were born in America.”

“St. Louis. Do you know where that is?” he asked, breaking a piece of chocolate off and handed it over to Carl, who took it, and shook his head at the question. “It’s on the border of Missouri and Illinois, on the Missouri side. Was shit getting out of there.”

Carl nodded his head. “What was your house like?”

Ethan shrugged. “Kinda big. Jason had a decent army fortune thing and Omma had decent cash from my grandparents, so they bought a house together. The neighbourhood had pretty big houses so ours was too. Lived near Lafayette Park, which was OK. But getting over to Illinois was scary. There’s like a river that acts as the border between the two states and the bridge was full of empty cars. Was really hard to try and get out of there, but we managed it,”

“Were you with anyone? At the start?”

Ethan grimaced. “Well. We were with Damien and Gabe – my uncles, Gabe was nicer – they both had families of their own, my shitty ass cousins, though Gabe’s kids were moderately OK. We got separated by the biggest fucking herd we’d ever seen, bigger than the one that came here. We didn’t find them again, and I guess they’re dead. I don’t miss them, they weren’t exactly family material. But we ended up going south, near Georgia before Jason decided he didn’t like the heat and then had us trek up north. What?”

He’d seen the shocked, amused look on Carl’s face and was frowning at him. “I used to live in Georgia. Funny how we could’ve met earlier,” he said, reaching over for another piece of chocolate. “Go on.”

“We found some communities on the way but shit never really stuck and it wasn’t fun. When we got closer to Washington, we met a guy called Alden. He’s a few years older than me, and I think he might be alive. He was a bit of an asshole, and those ones tend to keep on kicking.”

“You never mentioned people joining when Jason was in charge of you, Eli and Min-seo,” said Eric, raising an eyebrow at him.

“That’s because we didn’t exactly stick together long. Maybe two or three months. Jason hated him because he looked out for me, Omma and Eli. Took a few beatings for us when Jason got pissed. He’d just lost his brother and was mad and in mourning, so I guess he acted from that? But he’s not here anymore, and I don’t think he’d recognise me. If he did, he’d probably-probably say the, uh, say the old name,” he said, wincing at the idea of his friend using that name. Just thinking about that name made him feel sick. He handed the rest of the chocolate over to Carl.

He hadn’t really thought about Alden all that much; he’d been preoccupied in thinking about Eli and just what he was going to do after the war. If Alden was still alive, Ethan wasn’t quite sure what he’d do. There was no doubt in Ethan’s mind that he and Alden had changed from what they’d been before, but he wondered if Alden was still alive, and if he’d respect Ethan as Ethan and not what he’d been when they’d first met.

“How’s Michonne?” he asked, deftly changing the subject.

“Better. She’s getting up and about and healing well.” said Carl, nodding his head a little. “Still battered and bruised, but she’s getting better. She said she’s not gonna join the fight and I don’t blame her. She took one helluva beating in that tower. She’s gonna help me with this place when everyone goes.”

Ethan nodded, not sure what to say. “Least she’s getting better,” he said finally. Eric got up, muttering something about the bathroom. That was probably code for them to talk about whatever was bothering them. Ethan wasn’t quite sure what was bothering them. Ethan got up and went into the kitchen for more food and Carl followed.

“You know I meant it – what I said I think,” said Carl. “I … I can’t stop thinking about it and it makes me sure that I am.” Ethan leaned against the counter and looked at the boy, raising his eyebrows at him.

“Sure you’re not just infatuated?” he asked. “Or obsessed?” He looked away briefly, knowing what he was doing and hated himself for it.

Carl rolled his eye and shoved at Ethan’s shoulder. “I know I do love you.” The words made Ethan’s stomach churn and he couldn’t tell if it was good or not. But he knew it scared him out of his wits. “And you’ll tell me when this shit’s over?”

Instead of answering – because he couldn’t verbally at the moment – he lowered his head a little as he put an arm around Carl’s waist. He put his arms around him as Ethan rested his forehead on his shoulder, hiding his face from view.

“I thought I told you can’t say that kinda shit?” he asked but didn’t wait for the response. “If you say that shit and you die, it’s gonna fuck me up worse than anything I can think of. But now you’ve said it and it’s terrifying because no-one else says it with the meaning you do, or the way you do. So don’t say it until we’ve won.” His grip on Carl tightened. “Cos after we’ve won, it means a future with you and that scares the shit out of me, but I want it if you want it, but I can’t think about that right now in case something happens. If something happens, then it’s gonna suck.”

“I get it.”

It wasn’t long until they had to go back to work.

 

* * *

 

 

People travelled back and forth between communities, and it was hectic, but ordered. They were getting things in gear. Aaron and Eric were in the Hilltop and Ethan was spending the night at Alexandria, in Rick’s house, before he’d go with the group in the morning to the Hilltop.

He and Carl were laid together, both unable to sleep. They were sharing a blanket, close together and Ethan had his eyes shut, trying to sink into sleep. At least the pillow was comfortable.

Carl said something, and Ethan grunted, then put the hearing aids on, turning them on. “What’d’you say?” he asked, feeling the fatigue as he blinked, looking at Carl through the darkness. “What?” he asked again.

“My dad gave me a talk. On the way to Oceanside. Did I tell you about that?”

“No, you got side-tracked when I saved your life,”

Carl laughed. “Oh, you saved my life?”

Ethan nodded, punching Carl’s chest lightly. “Got Ezekiel to scare the shit out of Negan with Shiva before he could hurt you. But yeah, what’d your dad say?”

There was a pause as Carl kissed Ethan’s forehead. Ethan shifted so he was resting his head on his fist. “He just … I don’t think he knew how to say it. Like, he forgot you’re trans, I think. And then he remembered after talking about … stuff … but yeah. I reminded him I’m not into that kinda stuff after those guys on the road,”

“Yeah, I’m not too into it anyway. And what happened at the Sanctuary and the whole trans thing. I’m good with not doing that shit.”

Carl sighed. “I think maybe I could be or would be. But it’s not really necessary. And if I did want to, I’d only want to if you were comfortable with it.”

“Aren’t you charming?” Ethan smiled at him. “You’ve already seen the worst of my body, but that part’s a no-go. This is such a weird conversation,”

The two shared a laugh, quiet and hidden away in Carl’s room. “It feels different, doesn’t it?” Ethan nodded, then leaned forwards and pressed his forehead against Carl’s. “I want it to be over already, but I don’t want to lose people. I don’t know how to continue losing people,”

“It happens. Have to try and remember them and keep their memory alive. But it’s hard. Always chips a piece of you away when you lose someone. But we can do it.” He pulled away a little and looked at Carl, eyes on his lone one. “We both lost people and there’s no way in hell we won’t lose people in this war. They’re giving their lives so that stuff will be better for us and the future and that’s as good a reason to die, right?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Carl whispered, pulling Ethan close to him. He shuddered a breath and kissed Ethan’s cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.” he repeated, and it tore Ethan’s heart in half.

“Good job you won’t.” he said, placing a hand on Carl’s cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin. “C’mon, sleep.” If they did end up going to sleep, they ended up wrapped around each other, trying to remember what the other was like, just in case.


	20. Old Friends

Ethan had gone back to Hilltop with Maggie, Enid and Aaron and Eric. There were others who had gone with them, helping them prepare the scrap metal from the materials yard that was near the Hilltop. It was one thing to come up with the concept for their attack, but now it was happening. It was as terrifying as it was exciting. It kept Ethan busy and made it hard to think about things in his life.

Whenever he had a break, he’d visit the graves. He wasn’t sure what to say anymore, so he didn’t tend to speak much. It took days for them to get stuff that they wanted and needed to mount the attack they were gunning for. The feelings he’d had when the groups had gone to Oceanside were settling back in his stomach, only with more intensity. This was _big_. Losing people was going to be inevitable, and he’d already lost too much.

“Ethan.” He nearly flinched at the sudden voice but looked over his shoulder to see Rick. He’d been lost in thought, staring at Min-seo’s grave. But Rick was looking alright, considering he’d been shot not too long ago. “Sorry, I should come back later,”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve gotta go soon anyway,”

The man nodded and walked over and stood beside Ethan. “I don’t think I’ve said it yet, but I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks. My fault, but thanks. Least she’s ‘at peace’ or whatever bullshit people say,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “Is my fault, I can see you ‘bout to say it ain’t.”

“It’s not,”

Ethan laughed, then gestured to her grave with his right hand. “I ran, she got her face burned. I got found, she had her head bashed in. Pretty shitty son, right? Can’t even get the body part right. It’s weird and sad that she’s not here. I’m already forgetting her voice, but there’s things – turns of phrase, I guess – that she’d do that I can _just_ remember. I can remember the way she’d say my old name, a particular laugh she’d have. But they’re all vanishing. It’s sad but whatever. Sometimes I forget what people sound like and they’re still alive. Being deaf makes you wanna cling to sound so much, but there’s a point where you lose it all. I’m gonna forget Omma’s face, I’m already forgetting her voice. Only a matter of time.”

“You don’t have a picture of her?”

He shook his head. “I have two of Eli. One when he was six. One’s a week after I told him I’m Ethan.” He held them out to Rick. “I want you to remember his face,”

Rick took the photos and smiled faintly. “You can tell you’re brothers. I’m grateful you’ve let me see these photos. You’ll be able to add more of him once everything’s over.”

“Yeah, I kinda hope so. I’ll leave you to it,” he said once Rick had handed him the photos back. He turned to leave but only went a few steps before Rick called him back. “Hmm?”

“We need to find gas stations and fill up soon. Carl’s here and he’s going to go out and help. I know he’s able to look out for himself but …”

Ethan smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re coming?” asked Carl, looking at Ethan who was already sitting in the van, feet kicked up onto the dashboard. Ethan had been reading a book but shut it when Carl spoke.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Might as well, right? ‘Sides, I wanna drive,” he said, smiling at him. Carl returned it shyly, shaking his head a little. “And we need to have a talk – nothing bad, promise,” he said, knowing just how well those words were terrifying.

“Move over then, if I’m not driving.”

Ethan shifted over and Carl climbed in, shutting the door behind him.

Kal opened the gates for them and then they were off. It was weirdly silent. “What do you wanna have a talk about,”

“Stuff. Hard to explain. You, your dad, I guess? Other shit. Still trying to figure out how words work. Left or right?”

“Map says left,”

“Thanks.”

Silence fell once more. “I’m sorry I keep scaring you. Enid says she’s gonna kill me if I give you an aneurysm over the things I say,” Carl said after the quiet went on for too long. Ethan laughed quietly. Of course Enid would threaten Carl.

“It’s fine, just … daunting. I can tell people like Aaron and Eric I love them, cos they’re my dads. But with you it’s different – a good, _terrifying_ different – and my head’s a little fucked so it takes me longer to be OK with saying stuff and expressing stuff the way you do towards me.”

Carl huffed a laugh a little. “It’s fine. We have the rest of our lives for that,”

“Yeah, and how long’s that?” Ethan retorted. “I do care about you a lot. I can say that, but … other words are harder for me to say. Jason fucked me up from day one and it’s hard enough to tell Aaron and Eric I love them.”

“Y’know, even if you never say it, that’s OK.” Carl said. “Just letting you know is good enough for me,”

“You’re sweet, Carl Grimes.” He reached over and held his hand for a moment.

Carl shifted in his seat and sat closer to Ethan. “It’s nice that you’ve changed. I mean, when we first met, you weren’t … as OK, I guess is the word. You didn’t really talk and when you did it wasn’t like it is now. But I miss your bandanna,”

That got a laugh out of Ethan, who glanced over at him. “My bandanna?” he asked. “Why would you miss that?”

Carl shrugged a shoulder. “You had it when we first met. You had it, and when you’d first talked to my dad. Back when things weren’t complicated.”

“What, so it reminds you of the simplicity we had before the Saviors?”

“Yeah.” The way Carl said it, there was something he wasn’t saying. Ethan didn’t ask him about it; Carl would tell him if he wanted him to know. Or he’d tell him after everything was over with the Saviors.

They finally made it to the meeting area, near the gas station and intersection and Ethan pulled the van over to the side and killed the engine. Silently, the two got out and car took out the can from inside the van as Ethan nocked an arrow into his bow. They ventured down the road and into the grassier, woods area, Carl taking lead.

There were many cars, some tipped over, and some beyond repair. It was like a graveyard, but then again, the whole world was one. There were kids tricycles, the earth overgrowing on them. Neither of the boys said a word as they continued on their trek. They didn’t need to talk to know how things ended, and how long ago it had been. There were bodies in the cars, decayed and holes in their heads. Ethan pulled Carl along and led him around the cars, wanting to get it over with.

And then there was a noise so loud in the silence it felt like a gunshot. Carl dropped the can and raised his gun, but Ethan had already raised his bow, bowstring pulled tight, eyes scanning the area. His heart was pounding in his chest. Ethan moved forwards first. He could sense the movement of the person, almost, though knew the person was talking. He couldn’t hear the words, it was too quiet, but the movement he could sense. It was hard to explain how – like the reverberations in the person’s footsteps made their way to him, letting him sense out where the person was.

Carl was right behind him.

“Whatever you have of good, spend on the traveller,” he vaguely heard the person say. It sounded like they were male, but Ethan wasn’t exactly one to jump to conclusions; he did after all know he had a bit of a feminine-sounding voice.

The two continued to move, silent as ever. He crouched as Carl took off his hat and laid down on the floor, looking under the car. “That’s from the Quran,” he heard the person say. Ethan peeked over the bonnet of the car and saw a flash of dark hair a few cars away. Carl must’ve seen the person too as he got up, hat forgotten, and they raced over, trying to quieten their footsteps.

They found him. “Hands up,” said Ethan, arrow aimed at the man’s head. He was Asian, maybe a Muslim from his brief mention of the Quran. He jumped back but did indeed hold his hands up.

“Listen, I’m gone. It’s cool, it’s just … I just wanted some, even just some _food_ –”

There was a faint gunshot and the man took his chance to run. There was another gunshot and then Rick appeared. Ethan loosened the arrow and walked over to him, trailing just short after Carl, who looked angry.

“Supposed to meet at the intersection.” He saw the look his son gave him. “I shot over his head, I just wanted him gone,”

Carl went to talk, but Rick cut off, telling him he thought the man might be with the Saviors. “If he isn’t one of them, I hope he makes it.” Ethan hoped the guy wasn’t bad. He didn’t appear bad, even if their interactions were brief.

Carl walked off, presumably to get his hat and to go back to the van. “It’s not gonna be enough, Dad,”

“Enough what?”

“Hope.”

Ethan looked over at Rick. “Your son is dramatic,” he said bluntly.

“Well, he’s your boyfriend too,” Rick retorted, but the sound of snarls cut off their conversation. Without saying anything to him, Ethan put the arrow back and took out a knife, shifting through the cars before he stabbed the walker, pulling the knife out and walked back to the man, ignoring the sound of the body dropping to the floor. “How’s the hearing aids?” he asked as they made their way back.

“Alright, I guess. They’re not gonna last. Got a few weeks or months in them if I’m lucky. Me and Enid had a talk and we’re gonna see if we can find any other hearing aids we can use that’ll help me hear because it’s getting harder and harder to hear people and these are taking in all sound and it’s still too quiet.”

Rick sighed a little, hand going over his beard. “You’ve only talked to Enid about this?”

Fiddling with his knife, Ethan nodded. “We can’t think long term because who knows what’s gonna happen. After the war, we’re gonna find places – practices, hospices, maybe even hospitals. Maybe some actual places that specialised in hearing, but I don’t know any places nearby that do them. Just thinkin’ ‘bout tomorrow, every day,”

“You’ll be able to think about years ahead of you. You’re one of us, Ethan, and we don’t die.”

He smiled but it was sad. “Feels like I died the day I lost Eli. Feels like I died when my mom did. Definitely thought I’d be dead when Carson cut parts of me off. I guess you’re right that I don’t die. Sucks when you think you’re gonna, and then you have to keep movin’ when you thought you could finally get some rest.” He looked at Rick – he was getting better at looking at people in the eye – and saw the masked hurt and concern. “I’m not gonna kill myself. I … my dads care about me and I can’t do that to them. Can’t do it to Carl either,”

“You’re gonna get through this, Ethan. You’ve been through so much, this ain’t nothin’ with what you’ve been through.”

“I guess.”

The two headed back and saw Carl had already syphoned some fuel from the cars. Ethan was on watch. He was sat on top of one of the cars, legs over the edge as he looked around. On his left was the trees and forest and on his right was the gas station. It was silent and weird. “Omma considered being a Muslim,” he said after a while.

“What?” the Grimes men asked.

“That guy. Mentioned something about the Quran. It’s an Islamic text. Or the central religious text, rather. She thought about converting because Christianity’s a load of shit and she couldn’t quite get with the whole Buddhist thing.” He shrugged a little. “Just reminded me, s’all.” Ethan pulled a leg up onto the car and rested his elbow on it, face pressed against his fist.

It wasn’t hard to see the looks on their faces. God, they were so similar. “I guess Jason didn’t take to that well?” asked Rick, spitting out some residue fuel that came up from the hose.

“Made us Christians. Got Christened and all. Think he wanted to take the Asian out of us,”

“He sounds like a massive asshole.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky you haven’t met him.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rick looked at Ethan through the rear-view mirror. “Sure you wanna come with us back to Alexandria?”

He nodded once. “Might as well. Waste less fuel too.”

The silence fell on them and it was a little weird. He’d never really been in the same space as Rick and Carl before, when it’d just be the three of them. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything or let the other two start a conversation. Ethan leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, curling up in his seat, hoping to get some rest.

“I told him about blacksmithing at the Hilltop. But I didn’t tell him about after that,” said Carl after what must have been a few minutes. He sounded a little uncomfortable. “Blacksmithing will be good and then I can blacksmith for Alexandria. But I – Dad, what if Ethan stays at the Hilltop after?”

He thought he heard Rick sigh, but he wasn’t sure. “That’s his choice, son. You heard Maggie, how he wants to help her with her kid. He … he’s got guilt over Glenn, and that’s Ethan’s way to repay for what he thinks he caused. But Maggie won’t hold him there; he has to find Eli too. We can’t force him to stay at either communities. If Ethan wants to stay at Hilltop or Alexandria or even the Kingdom, that’s his choice.”

“I don’t wanna lose him,”

“You won’t. Ethan’s tougher than he looks. Just talk to him about it. He’ll understand, he’s smart like that. Hell, he’s smart in nearly every way, just don’t overwhelm him like you did last time. Maggie and Daryl weren’t too pleased when they told me.”

Ethan hid his amusement. Of course Maggie knew; she knew everything that went on around Hilltop. And Enid probably told her. Ethan was trying to get some rest, but he didn’t trust himself once he did. His night terrors were bad and had been getting worse with the upcoming war. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he woke up mid-terror or mid-scream.

“Daryl really cares about Ethan. It’s nice to see him care about people. I mean. I know he cares about us, would die for us. But he shows it in a different way with Ethan, and it’s nice.”

Someone laughed – it might’ve been Rick. “Daryl looks at Ethan as a son. Hell, so do Aaron and Eric. Kid’s finally got some decent dads who’ll care for him forever. Daryl and Aaron were the first people Ethan had who were willing to care for him in a way no-one else had before. They have their own family, if a little unorthodox,” Rick said, and Ethan felt a weird sense come over his body and assumed Rick had looked at him through the mirror. “You’re good to him and he’s good to you, Carl. But you do put some pressure on him sometimes.”

“I don’t mean to,”

“And he knows it. Just, the next time you tell him you love him, make sure it’s not before something dangerous.”

Ethan curled up a little further, trying to find comfort despite the rough drive.

 

* * *

 

 

He was helping Michonne with the guns supply. It was meticulous but repetitive. “You’re not going, are you?” he asked, needing the silence to stop. The silence brought back memories and made him uneasy. It didn’t help that Rick had said that it was the day they were going to set off to prepare their attack.

“No. Carl’s staying behind too. I know you’re going with Jesus after, but … take care of Rick while you can. Please.”

“Was gonna do that anyway; man’s an idiot. Gotta make sure he doesn’t get his ass killed in the first wave, right?”

Michonne smiled at him, gentle and thankful. “You’re a good kid, Ethan,”

“So I’m told,” he said, looking up at Michonne through his eyelashes. The smirk on his face brought a laugh out of Michonne, which was more than enough for Ethan. “It’s nearly time to go,” he said as they finished up the last of the guns. They took two boxes each – Rick and Tobin were going to get the next boxes – and made their way to the trucks.

“You’ll be careful out there, won’t you?” she asked as they set down the boxes and handed out the guns to the people of Alexandria. There weren’t as many as Ethan hoped, but it was enough for what they were going to do.

“I’ll do my best.” he answered, handing out one of the last ones to someone who he recognised but didn’t know the name of. “When I go with Paul, I’ll be fine. Tara’s coming with us too, so I’ve got people I know if anything bad does happen. Won’t be too bad.” Ethan shrugged his shoulders and took hold of one of the guns he’d be using, hopefully he’d not have to waste as many bullets as he thought he would.

Michonne took one look at him and offered a smile. “Be careful out there, Dolori. You never know what’ll happen.”

“Yes, ma’am,”

She put a hand on his shoulder and shared a meaningful look with him. His mouth twitched in a smile before she let him go. She knew who he was going to see.

“I don’t like that you’re going out there,” said Carl, a sort of sour expression on his face. “But I get it. Don’t get killed out there.”

“Can’t if I tried – your dad says we don’t die.” He offered the other boy a smile before he embraced him, arms around him tightly. “I’ll be back in a few days. Might see you sooner. Keep the people here calm, can’t let them lose their heads. And then when it’s all over, you can say your thing and I might be able to give you a reply, pretty boy.”

The tension was heavy in Carl, and Ethan could feel it. He held on a little tighter. “Just come back safe.”

It hurt to move away from Carl, but he did. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything else so just waved at him before he went and climbed into the truck with Tobin. He ignored how his hands shook and engaged in the conversation Tobin offered. The man looked terrified and Ethan could relate.

“Just gotta get through it,” Ethan told him as they drove off. “Not much else we can do except get through it.”

“Sure you don’t wanna stay behind at Alexandria or one of the other communities?” Tobin asked, looking over at him. “You’re still just a kid.”

“Maybe, but I used to be with the Saviors. Jason’s still there and that means I have to go and make things right. Nothing else I can do just yet.”

It felt terrifying to be doing this, but it had to be done.

 

* * *

 

 

They were making their way to the Sanctuary. Ethan’s stomach was in his throat. They stopped in one of the fields that was close, but not too close to the Sanctuary. Ethan fiddled with his green band-thing on his arm. It showed he was part of Hilltop (when did he become part of their community?). He saw Aaron and Eric talking to themselves by the car opposite the one Ethan was sat on; Jerry was talking to Enid not too far away. It was weird to see their communities together. But it was still a welcome sight.

Aaron and Eric came over to him after they’d spoken and offered him smiles. “Are you ready?”

Ethan shrugged a shoulder, the semi-automatic heavy in his hands. The more he was left to think by himself, the more he thought about the death and blood that would soon be on his hands. “As I’ll ever be,” he sighed. “What about you two? I know you’ve never done something like this,”

“No. We’re nervous, but that’s to be expected,” said Aaron, arm around Ethan. “We wish you hadn’t come with, but we get why. Shit with Jason and shit with Negan, to put it in simple terms.”

He laughed, blinking a few times because he wasn’t going to cry. “Simple terms,” he said quietly. “Love you guys,”

“I love you too,” they said in near tandem, and Aaron kissed the top of Ethan’s head.

Around them, people started moving around. Ethan’s stomach twisted itself around Ethan’s heart and lungs. “Looks like we’re getting ready for one of Rick Grimes’ infamous speeches,” he said, trying to change the mood from how serious it felt. The two men smiled a little, but it looked a little forced on their faces, and they made their way to where Ezekiel, Maggie and Rick were standing in one of the trucks.

Ethan saw Rick look down and then look back up around them all. “Here we go.” Aaron elbowed him a little.

“When I first met him,” Rick began, and Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew where this was going. “Jesus said that my world was gonna get a whole lot bigger. But we found that world. We found each other. That … bigger world is ours, by right. That we’ve come together for it, all of us. It’s that much more true, it’s ours by _right_!”

Ethan wasn’t particularly sure they really had rights anymore, what with the apocalypse they had going on. Rick continued talking, “Any person who would live in peace and fairness, who would find common ground, their right too. But those who use and take and kill and carve out the world and make it theirs alone – we end them! We don’t … _celebrate_ it, we don’t have shame about it either. There’s only one person who has to die. And I will kill him myself, I will. I will. But if it’s the other – the others who prop him up and stand by his side, even those who just look the other way, so be it.” It made Ethan remember all the times people watched on the side lines as everything happened to him, before and after he’d ran away. “Then we keep making the world bigger: together.”

“Together! Bound forever!” exclaimed Ezekiel, then quoted something out of a book Ethan didn’t catch the name of.

“We’ve practised, we’ve been through it over and over again. We all know the plan doesn’t end this morning. That we may have to live in uncertainty for days, maybe more. That we have to keep our faith in each other. If we can hold onto that with everything we have, the future is ours. The world is ours.”

Ethan laughed a little. “Fuck yeah,” he said, looking at Enid beside him and the two shared a smile.

“I don’t wanna wait for it anymore,” said Rick. “You don’t either,” he climbed down from the bed of the truck he’d been standing on and started walking around them, “yeah I know, we don’t have to wait for it. We start tomorrow, right now. With everything we’ve beaten, everything we’ve endured, everything we’ve risen above, everything we’ve become. If we start tomorrow – right now – no matter what comes next, we’ve won. We’ve already won.”

Ethan joined in the cheering the others did. It felt weird to be optimistic about the situation. He wondered how long _that_ was going to last.

They were going to attack early in the morning, give themselves plenty of time of the day to get things started, get through those outposts that needed taking out. Ethan slept between Aaron and Eric, curled up close to them both. He’d never done that before – had never done it with his parents before. But then again, Aaron and Eric were his parents now.

He’d be devastated if he lost them.

 

* * *

 

 

They were getting close and it felt like no time at all until they were there.

The cars were placed as needed, the scrap metal hiding them. Ethan was between Aaron and Eric and moved over and stood beside Jesus. Rick raised his gun and fired three times. Ethan had told him they couldn’t risk wasting the bullets, and Rick knew he was right. Who knew what else they’d come up against now that they’d started this shit.

It didn’t take too long before Negan came out. “Well, shit!” he yelled, and it just caught on Ethan’s BTEs. “I’m sorry, I was in a goddamn motherfucking meeting.” Ethan peered around the metal and saw the others, Simon, Gavin, Dwight, Jason, Eugene – how had he not been informed Eugene was on their side now? – and the woman, Regina.

He looked over at Rick. “From left to right, Regina, Dwight, Eugene, Simon, Jason and Gavin.” he said, and saw the minute nod and the look on Rick’s face. Rick knew what Jason Albright looked like now. Ethan wondered if Rick would kill him or if he would let Ethan do the honours.

“I see you got your little fuckflaps with ya,” he said. “So I’m not exactly feeling a fucking reason to try and throw led at each other. I fucking care about my fucking people. I don’t wanna just march them into the line of fire because I wanna play my fucking goddamn dick is bigger than yours. It is. We both fucking know it. But I’m also comfortable enough to accept the fact if it fucking wasn’t. I’m certainly not gonna let my people die over that fucking shit. Like you’re about to. So Rick, what the fucking fuck can I fucking do for you?”

Rick repeated the names Ethan had given him, surprising Negan and the others when he knew Regina’s name.

“Rick I’d feel –” Eugene began.

Rick was quick to cut him off and told them the deal that Rick was willing to propose. Negan took it how Ethan had expected – he didn’t. Ethan clicked the safety off, finger off the trigger until he needed to put it back on. The two leaders, Rick and Negan, continued to talk about the ‘shit that was about to go down’.

“Do you think you have the numbers for this fight?”

Ethan clenched his jaw. Of fucking course. They’d all known Gregory had vanished, and Ethan had suspected he’d gone to the Saviors, but of course he had to be right.

“What do you have to say to the piss patrol, Gregory?”

Gregory spoke about how the Hilltop would stand with the Saviors and how they’d have no home if they didn’t. Maggie told them to do what they needed to do, but no-one was going to leave. It was pissing both Ethan and Jesus off that Gregory had the audacity to try and pull that shit.

Maggie looked smug as she spoke. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s going, does it?”

“The Hilltop stands –” Gregory started.

“The Hilltop stands with Maggie,” Jesus and Ethan yelled together, anger clear in their voices. Ethan could see the anger in Simon’s face and could see it coming; he pushed Gregory off the balcony they were on.

There was an explosion, the black smoke rising in the air on the right. Those Saviors had been killed. It’d worked. Gavin, Ethan knew, was the most reasonable one, he tried to say they could “take a time out”, but both Negan and Rick knew it’d gone too far.

And then Rick started counting. It made Ethan feel sick, remembering what he was referencing, but he only got down to seven before they started shooting. Even though he hadn’t used a semi-automatic much before, he’d still managed to wound Regina. She was bad, but Simon was worse.

They had to make as much noise as possible, to draw as many walkers as possible to the Sanctuary; trap them in and starve them. It was horrible, but so were the Saviors.

“Now!” Maggie yelled.

“I’m staying with Jesus,” he told Enid, shooting at one of the snipers up in the windows. It took three shots, but he got them in the face. “Go!” he yelled, and Enid gave him one last look before she took off. He manoeuvred around Rick and got closer to Jesus, following him like a shadow. Rick was still alive, which was good. They got into the same car and Jesus drove off. Ethan felt his heart hammering in his chest. That was another life he’d taken, and with the Militia, they’d taken more because of the walkers they’d drawn.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked at the same time as Jesus. “OK, that’s like three times we’ve done that shit.” he added, earning a dry laugh from the man. “But seriously, how’re you?”

He took a moment to reply, which Ethan understood. They’d just done something monumental. “I’m not sure, if I’m being honest. It’s still taking it’s time to settle in. What about you?” he asked, glancing over at him. They were making steady way to their meet-up point before they moved to the satellite station. They, Tara, Dianne and Morgan were going there to take out the rest of the Saviors, along with some people from the Hilltop as backup and help – they were going to infiltrate an outpost in broad daylight. Their reunion was brief, but Ethan hugged Enid and kissed her forehead, telling her to be safe and make sure Maggie doesn’t overexert herself. Enid kissed his cheek in return, telling him not to get himself killed out there.

He told her he loved her, even though he couldn’t yet face the idea of saying that to his boyfriend. It was weird.

When they finally got to the satellite post, they saw that a fence had been rigged up around it filled with walkers. “Well, they’re certainly learning after last time,” said Ethan, holding his bow tight in his hands. The five of them were hiding behind the trees, from both the Saviors and the walkers.

“Looks like they made themselves a moat,” said Jesus. Ethan nodded his head. _Walker moat_ , he thought. It was convenient, but the current was easily manipulated if given a bit of thought. “Guess we shouldn’t be surprised, considering.”

“We were gonna start by taking out the guards with arrows. You think you can still hit ‘em through there?” asked Morgan. Both Dianne and Ethan were standing together, observing what the fuck was in front of them.

“Maybe if we’re lucky and we’re good enough shots. But the walkers … one could just move at the wrong time and take the arrow instead. Rattle the fences a bit to the side and get their attention, thin them out a little more, and yeah. We can make the shots, we just need a few seconds,” said Ethan, looking over at Dianne. “Right?”

She nodded her head. “Right,”

Morgan nodded and moved around them, going further away from them before he starting shaking the fences, successfully grabbing the walkers’ attention. Ethan had already raised his bow, nocked his arrow and was ignoring how painfully his heart was beating. At least it let him know he was still alive.

“Not letting these assholes fire any fuckin’ guns,”

The two archers waited until it was ready. They both knew when; they let their arrows fly at the same time. Two lives he’d already taken. He didn’t get why he was counting.

“Let’s go to the gate. It won’t be long until we get found out.” Ethan said, stomach back up in his throat.

He led the way inside. It was easy, too easy, and it set him on edge. But they kept moving forwards – they would, always would for as long as Ethan’s heard kept beating.

Ethan was Jesus’ shadow, bandanna around the lower half of his face, suppressed gun raised. He was relying on his other senses and felt someone approaching. As the corner came into view, he pulled the trigger and shot the man in his eye. He didn’t like shooting people in their eyes, it reminded him of Carl. Three.

But they didn’t stop moving. There were two people in front of them, and Ethan shot one whilst Jesus shot the other. Four. They paused in the silence, and Ethan could hear muffled words, quickly crouching, putting a hand on the floor. “People are close by,” he whispered, but the words didn’t reach his ears, the sound reverberating inside his skull. The adults around him nodded as he got back to his feet. Dianne whistled, and more people came in from their side. Ethan went with Tara and Jesus whilst everyone else split up, some going down the corridor they were standing near.

Ethan tried to ignore the words on the wall opposite him, the arrows pointing to the bullet holes. These people were worse than the dead. They’d taken his friend, hurt his brother and mother.

He raised his gun with Tara, edging closer to the door in front of them, beside the message. They were waiting for their signal. Then Jesus gave it. Ethan kicked open the door and shot the people on the right, Tara covering his back and shooting those on the left. There were more than expected, but they hadn’t expected them.

They heard whimpering as they ventured further inside, and the noise was coming from a pantry. “They don’t take prisoners here,” he whispered, barely louder than a breath. He didn’t trust whoever was in there. He kicked open the door and saw a man.

“Please don’t shoot me!” he yelped, a scream coming out of his mouth as he begged not to be shot.

“You pissed yourself,” said Ethan, unable not to notice the wetness on the trousers. The man didn’t look trustworthy. Ethan didn’t trust them. At least the man had his hands up.

“I’m not one of them, my name’s Dean,” said the man. There were gunshots and Ethan moved to the doorway, ready to shoot people.

“He’s one of them, kill him,” Ethan said, not looking back. He heard them talking and then had to duck away from a bullet. There was a crash behind him and he raised his gun. The man had Jesus’ gun to his head. He was talking to Tara, seeming to ignore Ethan’s presence. He stomped on the pill bottle and then Ethan shot him in the head. Five. He had to not think about how many lives he was taking, but it was all he could think about at the same time.

“Ethan!” yelled Jesus, turning to look at the body before looking back at him. “You didn’t have to –”

“Motherfucker had a _gun_ to your head. He’s a bad fucking guy. I’m not risking losing you.” Ethan snapped. “I’m not losing you because of some asshole and I’m not gonna lose you in this stupid fucking war. So shut the fuck up. He wasn’t worth saving.”

Jesus sighed, pinching at his nose. “We’re not gonna have to do this shit. We don’t have to kill them. There are workers who don’t do these horrible things, you’ve seen those workers, you were around them.”

“My best fucking friend turned into a worker, became part of the Saviors and fucked off to one of these stupid outposts. Shut the fuck up. You’ve no idea how much this shit hurts, especially knowing I’ll either have to kill him or someone else will have for me.” He stared at Jesus, keeping his gaze steady before they were notified that the Saviors were falling back. Ethan walked out and was beside Dianne in seconds, gun raised as they neared a corner.

“There another way out of here?” asked Tara, as they watched the people vanish through a doorway.

“Yeah, follow my lead,” Jesus said. The three followed suit, racing through the corridors until they were outside and raced around to the back. Ethan kept his gun raised, keeping it steady. He wasn’t going to fuck up. “Circle the door, wide, at least twenty feet,” Jesus commanded their group, who were quick to do it. “Guns up but hold your fire,”

“Bit dumb but OK,” said Ethan, finger moving off the trigger. “But it does mean we lose one of ours.” he added, glancing over at Jesus with a raised eyebrow. “You sure you can handle that happening?”

“Let’s hope for my sake that doesn’t happen. You can try to stop me,” he added the last part to Tara.

Then the shutters came up, someone was pushing them up. “Drop your weapon!” Jesus barked as the boy – or rather man – pulled his gun up. Ethan felt his heart disappear, along with his guts.

So he was still alive. He wasn’t the boy Ethan had known before. Ethan supposed he wasn’t what _he_ remembered either. “Drop your weapon and surrender,” said Jesus. Ethan could see him eyeing their group, and his eyes went over Ethan before going back to him. He barely smiled at his friend before said friend put his gun down.

“Living sounds good to me,” he told them before he turned around. Ethan didn’t realise how much he missed that accent; it had faded with time, as did the rest of the voices. “We’re surrounded,” he called to the other Saviors. “Don’t be as dumb as they think we are, put your guns down.”

Tara said something how Rick would listen to her. But Ethan wondered if the man would listen to him and ask him to spare his friend. The rest of the Saviors put their guns down and put their hands up. Alden had his up and walked over to them, ready for whatever they did to him.

They tied the Saviors up once Jesus had managed to persuade Morgan not to kill the Saviors. “Nice to see you again,” Alden said as Ethan tied his hands in front of him, like the rest of the Saviors who were to be tied to the rope. “I always knew you weren’t a girl. Your face looked weird.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered, but there was no real heat to what he said. “You know what my name is?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Not what it was before. There were stories about you. Word manages to travel fast despite the end of the world going on. You’re Ethan Dolori.” Ethan smiled minutely. “You’re my best friend.”

It tore Ethan’s heart in half. “You’re my best friend too, but you’re a Savior.” He kept his emotions intact. He’d cry later.

Maybe Rick would spare Ethan his friend, because he knew he lost his brother.

“Not – not by choice. You were one too.”

“Wasn’t my choice either. C’mon, gotta get you tied with the rest,”

The rest were all assholes. There were some who jeered at him, others who just stared. One said his old name. Alden had told him to shut the fuck up. Hearing that name made Ethan feel like he was about to throw up.

It was weird to have Alden back. But it was also kind of good.

Jesus led the way back. They were taking the prisoners to Hilltop. There was one car driving slowly in front of them whilst the Saviors were walking in lines in their chains. Ethan was beside Dianne, neither of them talking. Jesus eventually started talking to Morgan, but he couldn’t hear them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He wasn’t sure why Jesus wasn’t killing the Saviors as it was intended, but he was somewhat glad that Alden was kept alive. It gave him a little hope that maybe Eli was alive too.

It wasn’t the time or place to think about his brother. There never seemed to really be a right time or place, and tracks had faded and turned to dust. He was resigned to the fact he’d never see his brother again. It didn’t mean that he would stop trying to find him though.

And Ethan knew it was only time before shit hit the fan. And it hit the proverbial fan in the form of walkers coming down the hill.

“Fucking hilarious,” he muttered, pulling out his knife. “Look alive, assholes!” he called as people started to panic. Those that rolled down he was quick to stomp and stab their heads. He looked over at Alden for a brief second. “Don’t!” he snapped, seeing him trying to bite through his bindings. He turned back around and pulled out his gun and shot the walkers, giving them one bullet in each head. He heard Alden yell to stop at someone and that they had guns. It seemed he was the only prisoner who had common sense and self-preservation skills.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Alden or if he trusted him. Ethan was left in charge with the others like Dante to watch over the prisoners.

“If you run, Jesus won’t be able to stop me from killing you.” Ethan said coldly. “So if you assholes prefer living then stay where the fuck you are until they come back.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Alden said, then smiled a little. “Sorry, I’ll try not to be cocky.”

 _Asshole,_ Ethan thought. It brought back memories, and it was hard to tell what kind they were.


	21. Newfound Relative

They eventually returned, and it wasn’t hard to notice the lack of Saviors that had ran and died.

“Let’s go, assholes,” Ethan said. He wanted to be back at the Hilltop and see Enid and the others again. It had been a long day. They went back to walking. “What happened?” he asked Jesus. He looked a little rough, if unharmed.

“Morgan … lost himself. Attacked me. I don’t blame him – there’s not many, if any, sane people left in the world. He said he’s not right, but it doesn’t make him wrong. He left.” Jesus explained as they continued walking.

Ethan sighed. “Well … we were in this to kill the Saviors and-and you said that we have to keep them alive,” he shrugged a shoulder, “maybe he’s pissed. I’d be. Kinda am, but it’s not my choice. But Tara might murder you in your sleep because of this,” he said, trying to be a little jokey.

“She might. But I sleep with one eye open anyway.” he said, then glanced back at the Saviors. “So, what’s your deal with the blond guy?”

The subject change wasn’t subtle. “We met on the road – before the Saviors. We stuck together, and my dad was an asshole to him, but he helped out. When we got to the Sanctuary … he got moved to an outpost. I tried to forget him, figured he’d be dead, but apparently not.”

Jesus’ mouth twisted in the way that meant he was trying to figure something out, or to find the right words. “He knew you before? When – I don’t know how to word it,”

“He knew me when I thought I was a girl. Now he knows me as a guy. Said my face was weird before, that it didn’t suit a girl, so I guess he’s chill with it. Knows my name – my Ethan one – so he knows who I am.”

Jesus was giving him a look he didn’t quite understand. “Were you two ever together?” Ethan nearly choked.

“No,” he said, face burning from embarrassment. “Wasn’t ever my type and he’s too big a dickhead.” He didn’t glance back at him, didn’t know if he could. “Listen. He was my friend. He helped me before we were with the Saviors. I … I don’t think we know each other as well as we did before. I’ve changed. Alden will have too. Just … Jesus, there’s going to be consequences for what you did today, and I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to him because I knew him.”

Jesus looked at him, analysing him without judgement.

He knew from the slight change in Jesus’ expression that he knew that Ethan still cared about Alden, even though they hadn’t seen each other in what might’ve been a year or more. It made the nerves in Ethan rattle and set off a bomb in his stomach.

“Would you trust him now?”

“No. I doubt he’d trust me now. And I don’t know what he went through before we captured him.”

The walk back was silent and long. They came across some walkers and Ethan was quick to end them. It was a short distraction each time. But the Saviors made jeering noises at him sometimes. It made him start to hate his body more. It made him want to just turn around and kill them all like they were supposed to. Just to get it all over with.

Ethan was glad when the Hilltop came into view. Maybe he’d be able to get some rest.

When they got close enough to the Hilltop, they saw Gregory being allowed in. “I thought he was dead,” Ethan said. “And hoped. Thought we’d gotten rid of one headache.” He scratched at his left eyebrow.

“He’s not gonna be happy about this,” Tara said smugly.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Not like he runs the place anyway. Maggie’s in charge, so fuck Gregory.” He didn’t want to verbally speak his real thoughts – leave Gregory for the dead. He’d worried Jesus too much already with what he’d said.

“We are not letting them in! No way! With what they did, with what they do, they are monsters,” said Gregory, voice loud and annoying. He was quite visibly mad at Jesus’ choice.

“And you’re not for selling Hilltop out?” Ethan retorted, jaw clenched tightly as he stepped up to Gregory. The man stepped back a little, eyes wide with blatant fear. Ethan had an urge to stab Gregory and put an end to the man one and for all.

“No. This is not a sanctuary for killers, we are putting the safety of everyone in jeopardy.” The man said, pointing to the group of prisoners.

“Get out of here,” Maggie said calmly. She was holding herself together well; it was impossible to see just how angry she was – at both Gregory and Jesus.

“I know what they are, I have stared into the _face_ –”

“Gregory! Go!” Maggie snapped. He did as he was told. Ethan thought that was the best decision he’d done all day – or all his life.

Ethan looked over at Maggie, eyebrow raised. “So, fucker came back?”

“And I actually let him in,” she said, sounding annoyed with herself.

“No offence Jesus, but I kinda agree with that prick,” Tara said. Ethan frowned at her. He didn’t exactly agree with Jesus or Gregory, but it had all happened and now they had to deal with their prisoners. And there was no doubt that the children had seen these men all tied up.

“There are families here, children,”

“There’s empty trailers we can put them in,” Ethan said with a sigh. “They surrendered, and Jesus says we can’t kill them or let them go. So we gotta compromise and let them live – if a bit shitty,” Ethan said. “There’s no point arguing. This shit’s been done and now we gotta deal with the aftermath. ‘Sides, some might actually be decent.” He ignored the way Jesus was looking at him. “And if they fuck up, I’ll kill them.”

Maggie gave him a look. “You don’t –”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t have to but I should and I gotta. Shit’s inevitable sometimes.”

They ended up lining the people outside the walls of Hilltop, and they stood guard of them. Ethan, Jesus and some of the other people from Hilltop would be guarding them, keeping watch. It felt like Ethan wouldn’t get the rest he wanted.

“Ethan,”

He looked over at Alden, eyebrows raised as he turned to look at him a little. “What?”

“Is Eli here?” he asked. God, the mention of his brother made it feel like someone had an iron vice tight around his heart. He had tried not to think about his brother too much during the war they were in, but it felt like everything reminded him of Eli somehow. Ethan shook his head and turned his gaze away from the guy he’d once called a friend. “I’m sorry.”

Ethan didn’t want to hear Alden’s apologies.

The day dragged on, the sun starting the steady descent to the horizon, and then Aaron appeared in a car. Tara had long since gone back to Alexandria to deliver some messages, so Aaron had to do his job to deliver the messages he had. It surprised Ethan when he went back into the car and pulled out a baby. Ethan moved from his post with the Saviors, knowing Jesus would move to cover the space.

“Aaron?” asked Maggie, her voice soft as Ethan got closer. He stood beside her, eyes on Aaron and the baby in his arms.

“Eric, he didn’t –”

Ethan felt his heart break. “Why do you have a baby?” he asked instead, hoping it would distract Aaron. He had to keep himself intact, just until they got inside.

“She was at an outpost. Rick gave her to me. Am I alright to stay here?” he said the last part to Maggie.

She nodded to her friend. “Go and get some rest in Jesus’ trailer. There’s milk for the baby there. What’s her name?”

“Gracie,” he said thickly.

Ethan bit his lip, unable not to make a joke to try and lighten the mood. “She’s gracing us with her presence. C’mon,” he said, leading Aaron to Jesus’ trailer.

“Eric’s gone,” said Aaron, sounding miserable as they got into the trailer. Ethan felt his world get torn apart. It couldn’t be real, couldn’t be right. Aaron collapsed onto the sofa, Gracie asleep in his arms.

“No. He’s not.” Ethan shook his head, blinking harshly as he shut the door behind him. He tried to breathe in properly, but a weird sobbing sound came out instead. “Aaron, he can’t be,”

But the look of hurt and upset on Aaron’s face confirmed it. Eric was dead. Ethan couldn’t believe it. He refused to. How? It felt like things were beginning to crumble.

They were going to have a future after the war. Aaron and Eric and Ethan had discussed it the night they had come before going to Oceanside. They were going to live together like before, but this time they’d stay at the Hilltop. Eric would help with plants and Aaron would help with the blacksmith. Ethan would do what he always did. But now things had changed.

He knew that they were all going to die at various points in the future, but now Eric was gone. That was now. It wasn’t something Ethan had prepared himself for, even though he knew he should’ve.

Ethan had been so relieved when he’d returned with Jesus and saw some of the people he cared about alive; he should’ve known that it wouldn’t last, that it was only a matter of time before someone he loved got hurt. This was fucking war, of course someone he cared about would die. Thinking about love just reminded him of what Carl had said, and that wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

“There’s some milk powder in the kitchen, but I-I never –” Aaron began, but Ethan stood up, taking the baby from Aaron, putting her in one arm as he got to the small kitchen and prepared the milk.

“My mom sometimes needed help with Eli. I always made the milk.” He closed the lid of the bottle, put his finger over the silicone top that the baby would suck on and shook the bottle. He looked down at the baby and saw the way her mouth was curving as she woke up and saw the milk in his hand. She was going to cry if she didn’t get any milk soon. “Might be nice for her to have warm milk, but we don’t have a way to warm it up. She’ll have to have it cold.” Ethan finished shaking it and tipped it the right way into the baby’s waiting mouth. It felt weird, almost like nostalgia. He did this with Eli before, and remembered the best way to hold the milk bottle.

But he could remember how small and breakable Eli had been. He’d been a little too big in Ethan’s arms, arms and legs seemingly everywhere. His eyes had seemed so large and had tracked Ethan’s face with what wonder babies had about the world. Ethan could remember how heavy his brother had been in his arms. Gracie didn’t seem as heavy, or maybe it was because it had been years since Ethan had ever held a baby, and he’d gotten stronger since.

He wished he still had Eli with him. Ethan missed the way his brother smiled, the way the small crinkles around his eyes would become prominent whenever he laughed or smiled. He even missed the way Eli smelled. Ethan tried not to think about how he was forgetting Eli’s voice; it was difficult to remember just how high-pitched his brother’s voice was.

As Ethan turned back to look at Aaron, he composed himself and walked back over to him. He sat down and leaned against his side. Aaron put his arm around him, and Ethan could feel the way he was shaking. A few seconds later, Aaron was sobbing into Ethan’s hair. Gracie made a sobbing noise and Ethan shushed her, readjusting the bottle and she carried on drinking.

Ethan’s eyes burned with tears and he tried to cry quietly, unable to quite believe that one of his fathers was dead. But he had to compose himself. Ethan had to be brave for Aaron and this baby in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesus handed out some food for the Saviors, which Ethan supposed was a good and bad idea. Ethan wasn’t within hearing distance when Maggie, Gregory and Enid came out to see it, varying looks of annoyance and anger on their faces. Ethan tried not to think about it. He knew the possibilities. And he didn’t want to see what’d happen to Alden. He heard Gregory call Jesus _Paul_ , which was weird. Only Ethan and Daryl called him by his real name. Hearing anyone else say it made it sound wrong. Enid ended up leading Gregory back inside, after he’d said something about making a gallows for the Saviors they had as prisoners.

It didn’t surprise Ethan that the man would say something like that, especially in front of some of their prisoners. He pointedly ignored Alden staring at him, instead looking at Jesus and Maggie having their conversation. It wasn’t going to end well. Ethan knew that their supplies could only last so long, even with their surplus.

Maggie walked over to Ethan once she’d finished her conversation with Jesus. “Jesus said you knew one of these before?” He nodded, his gut churning uneasily. “I know it must be hard, but there’s possibilities on the table. Jesus put us in a bad position and we need all the food we have. There might be bad times ahead of us,”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, I know. Probably kill him if we have to,” Ethan shrugged his shoulder, trying not to break his demeanour. “Prefer it if you killed Jason instead though.” He readjusted his hold on the large firearm he had. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m still thinking that through,” Maggie admitted. “I don’t like you being out here,” she added, eyes going to the side, where a visible line of the prisoners were. “And I saw the way some of them look at you.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulder. “They did it before, they’re gonna do it now. Still uncomfortable either way. ‘Sides, if things go sideways, you need a good pair of eyes out here,”

The woman in front of him looked at him, her gaze easy and steady. “You can come in whenever you want,” she said, her voice low and barely audible to Ethan. “Just give Kal the nod and someone else will keep guard for you.”

He nodded his head, his mouth twisting a little in the corner. “Still feel like I’m responsible, even if I didn’t cause it.” He sighed and shrugged a shoulder.

Maggie held up her hands, frown on her face before she signed, ‘Is it because of your friend?’

He shook his head in response. Maggie nodded and patted his shoulder before she left.

“Ethan,” Alden said again. It was much better to hear him say Ethan rather than Ethan’s previous name.

Sighing quietly, Ethan looked over at him. “Yeah?”

God, Alden looked so different. His hair was a little shorter, and his beard had gotten better from the last time Ethan had seen him trying to grow out the shitty peach fuzz. He looked better; he’d grown up.

And then Alden surprised him. _“You’re still my best friend, despite all of this.”_ Ethan smiled a little, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Of course Alden still remembered some of the Korean Ethan and his mom had taught him. He’d been so interested in learning their language, so intrigued it made Ethan like him more than the few friends he’d had before. Alden was interested in them, wanted to learn what they knew. Although Alden’s Korean wasn’t the best, a little broken and slow, it was better than what Ethan thought it would be after so long without someone to talk to it in.

 _“You too,”_ he replied, then turned his gaze away.

Ethan stayed guard until his body was near crying for him to get sustenance and to use the nearest bathroom. Ethan looked up at Kal, who was quick to look at him. He gave the man a nod and he turned around and talked to someone inside. Ethan moved and went through the opening gates as someone from inside the Hilltop went to take his place. “I’ll not be long,” he told the person as he passed them.

The food he got – that Enid offered him when she saw him – was better than he thought it was. It was just a sandwich, but it was pretty decent.

“Why did Jesus bring those people back?” Enid asked as they sat on the bench on the front of Barrington House. “The mission was to kill them, not keep them prisoners.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “Because he’s a nice person, and he won’t be able to have all that blood on his hands. He was orchestrating the entire thing, he’d feel responsible for all those lives.” He wiped at his mouth and wiped his hand on his trouser leg. “He’s humane. Not many others have that anymore.”

“What, so we’re monsters?” asked Enid, frowning as she leaned back against the bench.

“Suppose so. The dead isn’t that bad anymore. There’s … demons, like Negan, and then lesser monsters. Like us. I don’t think there’s much good left in the world. Apart from Jude and Gracie.”

Beside him, Enid let out a quiet laugh. “Because they’re kids. Kids are so innocent.”

“Agreed. Now if you don’t mind, I need to go take a piss.”

“Wonderful. Have fun.” she said as he stood up.

Ethan gave her a thumbs up as he walked off towards Jesus’ trailer. When he got there, he saw Gracie and Aaron asleep. When he came back out of the bathroom, feeling far better, Aaron was waking up.

“Hey,” he said. “What’re you doing in here?”

Ethan shrugged. “Needed to pee and needed food. I’m going back out soon. You change her diaper yet? Might need to,” he advised, nodding to the baby laying on Aaron’s chest.

The man grimaced. “I’m not looking forward to that,” he said, gently shifting the baby.

“I’ll help. But if there’s a load of shit, I’m gone.”

“I just. Don’t know how to change a diaper. Never had the chance to,”

Ethan smiled as he pulled out a clean one from the duffel bag that had been left on the table. “There’s enough stuff here so I can help. Put her on that blue plastic thing on the floor.”

He grabbed the rest of the stuff, such as the wipes and talcum powder, before he knelt down next to Aaron. “This is gonna suck, and hey – welcome to fatherhood. Don’t fuck up.” He smiled at Aaron, who smiled and wiped away a stray tear.

“Welcome back to brotherhood,”

That made Ethan’s heart lurch.

“OK, so I’m gonna pull the sticky-tape parts away and then it’s gonna stink and we’re gonna have to clean her up and bin the dirty one. Please can you get rid of it?” Ethan undid the diaper and cleaned Gracie. Once he was finished, he lifted her legs up so her bum would lift up too and he pulled the dirty diaper away. He wiped the part of her bum that had been on the back of the diaper and put that with the rest of the wipes on the dirty diaper. He put talcum powder on her – he couldn’t remember the reason why, but he remembered his mom doing it with Eli – and put her clean diaper on, fixing it in place.

Aaron had watched what Ethan had done and then disposed of the diaper once he’d put the final dirty wipe in it.

This was going to be Aaron and Ethan’s lives now – if they lived past the war.

He stayed with them for a little while longer until Enid came in and then Ethan took his leave to watch the prisoners.

Sunset came and went, and it was dark. The stars in the sky and the half moon lit up the area, though not by much. Inside the Hilltop, through the gaps, Ethan could see fires burning away. He wished he was inside, where it was warm and where his family was. Where Aaron and Gracie were.

He wouldn’t go inside because he didn’t trust the prisoners one bit. Ethan wasn’t sure how long he’d stayed awake, couldn’t quite recall when he’d last slept. At this point, he supposed he was running on fumes, nerves and panic.

Being outside in the dark always kept him awake and alert.

“What are they building?” Ethan heard Alden ask. He glanced up and saw he was talking to Jesus who had peered through a gap in the wood of the walls to look inside. They were building, but it was just too faint for Ethan to hear.

Man, he really needed some new hearing aids. He barley heard Alden.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Jesus, looking back to Ethan with a nervous kind of look. Was Maggie making a gallows like Gregory had suggested? Ethan knew she wouldn’t listen to him unless he had a good enough reason or idea. And a gallows for the prisoners was a terrible idea.

“Did you sign up for this. When you joined your group?” Jesus turned around and looked at Alden before he pulled away from the wall and looked out into the forest. Ethan couldn’t hear them, but he could sense the walkers in there – just distant enough that they didn’t have to go and kill them. “I was by myself for a while, you know. Then I found a safe place with a family trying to survive before we moved on to what felt like a safer place. Bunch of survivors, bunch of tough guys too were there. We’d heard rumours and that eventually one of them took over and another took over, but I wasn’t paying much attention, cos I was getting fed. I’m good with my hands. They sent me over to the satellite place to put up the fence. And here we are. Now my life depends on the lady in charge in there.”

“Alden, shut up.” Ethan said.

“What do they call you, Jesus?” he said, ignoring Ethan, though there was an amused smile on his face for half a second. “Well, Jesus, I’m … I’m no angel. Never said I was. Ain’t no such thing.”

Ethan shook his head, looking back to the forest, seeing the branches rustle. Alden was still dramatic, it was good to know that aspect of him hadn’t changed.

The building noises carried on all night, and walkers came and died throughout the night. But the sun soon began to rise. Ethan’s stomach felt weird as the sun came over the horizon. He’d stayed awake for days on end before finally sleeping in the past. But this one felt different. Something was going to happen.

“Still not worried?” Alden asked, looking depressed and preparing for the worst. His expression had gotten worse throughout the night. He’d not talked to Ethan at all, and he guessed that was because of the people he was surrounded by and what Ethan was now.

Enid eventually came out, and she looked nervous. “Maggie says to bring them in.”

Ethan walked by Jesus’ side, and was surprised to see a make-shift sort of prison. It looked more like a pen. He guessed that was what they were making the previous night. Jesus made them enter the pen two at a time as he stood by the entrance. Ethan had stopped to stand between Enid and Aaron. Aaron’s arm came around Ethan’s shoulders and he leaned against the man’s side. He tried not to think about Eric. He couldn’t. Not yet. Just like how he couldn’t think of Eli.

“Starting now, we keep the prisoners inside here. We’ll feed them. We won’t mistreat them. But we won’t stand for anything less than total cooperation.”

Gregory made a groaning noise. Ethan wasn’t in the mood to deal with him; he’d been up for what must’ve been twenty-four hours, _minimum_ , and needed some rest. “Margaret, all due respect, I’m just straight-shooting here –”

“Pfft, straight,” said Ethan, and Enid had to bite down on the smile trying to get to her face.

“You can’t let people we don’t trust run around inside our walls,” said Gregory, eyes wide as he looked at Maggie.

“You’re right, Gregory,” Maggie began, and then a bubble of excitement was growing in Ethan. Was she going to do what he hoped she would? He knew none of them trusted Gregory. “In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me yesterday. You see, I grew up on a farm. I know all about sheep and wolves.”

And then Kal and Eduardo took Gregory by his arms. “What’re you doing?” Gregory asked. “No.” But they were leading him towards the pen. He saw the look on Jesus’ face.

Gregory started panicking, trying to thrash around in their arms. He fell forwards after he’d tried to escape. Eduardo grabbed him and pulled him back, but Gregory launched himself away and hit his head on part of the metal, clutching to the metal of the pen, saying that he didn’t do anything. He’d done a lot of things, and Ethan thought he was finally getting some form of punishment. The two men still pulled him back up and put him inside the pen whilst he sobbed.

And then Ethan saw the man with long hair move. Ethan saw Maggie hit him with the butt of a gun. He fell to the floor and said something to Maggie, only to get hit in the face again.

“Hey. Thank you.” Alden said to Maggie.

“Don’t make me regret it. Or you will.” Maggie said, voice stern and deadly.

 

* * *

 

 

“I keep forgetting he’s gone.” Ethan looked over at the man beside him. “I have this … weight. There’s moments where I … I think I’ll see him … that I’ll … be able to talk about how I’m feeling with him. And my mind catches up and I remember that the pain is about knowing that it will never happen.” Aaron said in his seat beside Ethan. Ethan was sat between Enid and Aaron and Maggie was sat opposite them, holding baby Gracie.

“I know that feeling,” said Maggie.

“Does it get easier?” Aaron asked, and the desperation made Ethan want to cry. He missed Eric and couldn’t even remember the last thing he’d said to the man. He guessed that that was the worst thing about losing Eric.

“No,” Maggie answered honestly. “But it helps to do something about it.”

Jesus entered, cutting off the conversation. Ethan was kind of glad of it; it meant they had something else to talk about that might not be so sad. “How is he?”

“Gregory’s fine,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “He’s trying to suck up to the Saviors now.”

“No surprises there,” said Ethan, raising an eyebrow at Enid who shared a similar look.

Jesus gave him a look but was looking a little amused. “I just wanted to say I think you did the right thing, and I wanted to say thank you,”

“Don’t,”

Gracie made a whining noise, so Maggie got up so that she could do that sort of bounce to ease her. “The Saviors in that pen are bargaining chips,” she said. Hearing Alden being referred to as a bargaining chip reminded him of Jason, when he’d used Alden more than once, putting him in danger. “Maybe we’ll have to trade them for some of our own. They’re alive ‘cause we might need them.”

It wasn’t hard to see the disappointment on Jesus’ face. “Jesus, if we don’t, we can’t let them live.” Aaron got up and left the room. Ethan got up to follow, but Enid put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll check on him,” she reassured him. Ethan nodded, and his best friend went after his dad.

Aaron was his dad. It was only just beginning to hit Ethan that Aaron was his dad, just like Eric had been. He sat down again, eyes on the floor as his mind raced.

“Ethan, I wanted to ask you which one was your friend in the group,” Maggie said once the door had shut after Enid.

“The guy who said thank you after you decked Jared,” he said with a shrug, looking back up to her. “Blond guy. Weird accent. Weirder beard,”

She smiled a little but nodded. “Yeah, I know who that is. What’s his name?”

“Alden. Before, he was alright. I think he’s the same as he was before. Annoyed the fuck out of Jesus all night and day and is willing to go along with being the prisoner because he’s wise enough to know the people he was with suck.”

“Would you trust him?” she asked. Gracie made a whinging noise. Ethan got up and took her from Maggie. Tiny hands latched onto the short hairs on his head and she babbled happily.

He shrugged his answer, mouth turning a little. “I trust him more than the others. Trust him more than that long-haired prick. Out of the lot of them, he’s probably the nicest one. Alden’s a dickhead, but he knows how to behave and who’s in charge. He’ll go along with whatever you say, if you give him some trust in return. He’s kind, but he can get impatient when progress doesn’t happen.”

“You think he’s still like that?”

“Maybe. More likely than not, but he might have learned how to act in the time we’ve been apart.”

Maggie looked like she was thinking intently, considering what he’d said about the man in the pen. “If it makes it any better, he’s a million times better and won’t rat people out to save his own hide.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between them. “You decide when he’s trustworthy. Give me the signal and I know I can trust him. But don’t let your past fuck with your present and future. Don’t let what you knew of him before cloud your judgement now.”

“I won’t.”

Another pause occurred before Maggie spoke, looking at Ethan. “Do me a favour?”

“Sure,”

“Go to Alexandria, check on them. I’m not too happy about the radio silence.”


	22. Scorched Earth

Ethan made it to Alexandria and waved to the lookout on his way; he recognised the person, who nodded in return to him, radioing that he’d be coming to Alexandria soon.

The gates opened, and he drove the car in. He stopped the engine and got out, smiling to Michonne who got closer to him and hugged him.

“Glad to see you alive and back home.” she said, pulling away to smile at him again. “What’re you doing here?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Maggie wanted me to check in. That and maybe wanting me to be out of harm’s way. I take it you heard of the prisoners Jesus brought back?”

“Yeah. What got into him to do that?” she asked as they walked along one of the roads of Alexandria.

“I don’t know. Guess he’s tired of seeing people die. Wonder if that’ll include Negan.”

She pressed her lips together as she sighed. “Who knows. Oh, by the way, Carl’s around here somewhere. That might be another reason as to why Maggie had you come back here.”

Ethan shook his head, biting back a smile. “Hilarious.”

“I’m gonna go back out there soon, see if I can bring Rick back. Daryl’s returned here too with Tara after they … they sent a truck into the side of the Sanctuary to put the walkers inside and kill the rest of the Saviors in there. So far we reckon it’s worked.”

He should really have gotten used to the dread that was a constant in his stomach. “Why did he do that? He does know that there are smart people – like Eugene – that’ll figure a way out of there? Fucking idiot.” Ethan muttered, pressing a hand over his face. “Michonne, that is one of the dumbest things he’s done yet. Why did he do that?”

“To end things quicker.”

Ethan guessed Daryl had just made things worse. “Does Rick know?”

“Rick’s not been back to Alexandria since before he went with you and the rest of the Militia.”

“Shit.” Ethan shook his head. “I’m gonna go and find that dumbass I call a dad,” he said, rubbing at his jaw. “That’s gonna be fun,”

Michonne smiled. “Good luck.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan knew that Daryl was around Alexandria, but assumed the man was hiding from him. He checked the houses Daryl’s original group lived in before going to the house Ethan and Aaron and Eric used to live in. Ethan leaned against a pillar on the porch, not quite ready to go into the house alone. He kept his eyes shut, letting the sun shine down on him.

“Heard yeh was lookin’ fer me?”

He could recognise that dumb, nearly incoherent accent from anywhere. Ethan turned around and offered Daryl a smile. The man returned a tight-lipped one, but still pulled Ethan to his chest, wrapping his arms around the boy briefly.

“Missed you,” Ethan said, holding onto Daryl tightly for a millisecond before he pulled away. “Do – do you know about Eric?”

Daryl nodded his head once. “Aaron was there with us after. Rick gave him that baby,”

“Gracie,” Ethan supplied. It felt different around Daryl now, like a bubble had come between them, impenetrable and permanent.

“We knew he’d lost ‘im, but Aaron didn’ say anythin’ abou’ it. Don’ think he could’a.” Daryl looked at Ethan. “How’re yeh copin’?”

Ethan breathed out a shuddering breath, surprised at the sudden upset and unease he felt. “Don’t think I am.” He smiled up at Daryl, but his lower lip shook, and he inhaled sharply, hand going to his hair as he tried so hard not to cry. “He – Eric –”

Daryl pulled Ethan down onto the porch and the two sat together. Ethan’s hands were pressed over his face and he curled in on himself.

“He knew yeh loved ‘im,” said Daryl gruffly, arm around Ethan’s shoulders, feeling like it was pinning him against Daryl’s side. “An’ it ain’ yer fault. Ain’ no way it could be. He don’ have to figh’ no more.”

“If you’re gonna suggest something bullshit like religion, I gotta tell ya I ain’t into that shit,” Ethan said through his fingers. He rubbed at his face, trying to wipe away the tears, but they kept on coming. He rested his head on Daryl’s shoulder and stared at the ground miserably. “If … if it wasn't a load of shit, d’you think my mom and Eric would be in the same place?”

“Yeah,” Daryl replied instantly, in the way that made him sound certain. “I ain’ bothered ‘bout religion either. But … yeah, they’d be in the same place if shit like tha’ was real,”

It was a little hard to breathe, but Ethan didn’t care. “I heard Eric talk about never getting around to praying. He was talking to Aaron. Said that – that he always meant to, but never really got around to doing it. Then he died.”

They sat in silence for a while, unable to find the right words that could comfort the other. There was so much that Ethan wanted to ask Daryl, but all the fight and all the energy had been taken out of him. But there were other things he could talk about.

“Your dumbass boyfriend took prisoners,” Ethan said, breaking the silence that had stretched over several minutes. He felt the way Daryl tensed up, hand gripping Ethan’s arm a little tighter. “He didn’t want to kill the Saviors that were at the satellite outpost. Dunno why. But some of them recognised me and one of them knows me,”

“Knows you?” Daryl asked, confused. “Fuck d’yeh mean?”

Ethan shrugged. “I told Eric and Carl about him. Alden. He was a friend. Never thought I’d see his face again.” He pulled away from Daryl, and the man removed his arm, and it felt like Ethan was all alone again. It wasn’t a fun feeling. “Maggie asked me if I trust him. And I kinda do, but we haven’t seen each other in a while, so we know we both changed. But after seeing him, I guess I’m glad he’s alive.”

“What would yeh have done if yeh saw ‘im dead at the outpost?” said Daryl, and it was the toughest thing Daryl had ever asked of Ethan.

“I don’t – I don’t know. Maybe I would’ve been sad. Maybe I might’ve cried. At one point he was like a brother to me.” It was hard for Ethan to tell where he and Alden stood. But in a way, regardless of everything, Alden was still his brother. “It’s just – there’s gonna be repercussions from this. And it’ll affect people a lot in-in ways we’ll not be able to see in foresight.”

The lack of contact from Daryl was a usual occurrence, but it didn’t stop Ethan from needing the man’s reassurance, or the familiar embrace to ground him. But all he got was silence and unspoken questions.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had set quicker than what Ethan had expected. And his nerves were going haywire. He felt like he was going to explode. Something was making his flight or fight action to take place.

Ethan was sitting on the porch of his, Aaron and Eric’s house. He’d not yet got the courage to go inside it, knowing one person was dead and another was off somewhere else in the world. Aaron and Enid had gone off without another word to either Ethan or Maggie, and both had felt upset over it in varying ways. Ethan felt the most upset; it wasn’t true, but it felt like everyone he cared about were slowly leaving him.

But all his melancholic thoughts were pushed aside when he heard the clanging and then Negan’s amplified voice. “You may be wondering why the hell your lookouts didn’t sound the alarm,” he began, and Ethan shot to his feet as his entire body began to shake.

“Fucking _Daryl_.” Ethan spat, fury rising in him. Of course Negan had gotten out. Of _fucking_ course. Ethan knew Daryl’s plan was the worst thing to come into existence. “Fucking balls.”

“See, we are polite. I mean, I don’t know when they’re going to wake up with that kind of shot, but they should wake up. Let’s cut through the cow shit, you lose. It’s over.”

Ethan found himself running – towards the direction of Negan’s voice, scarily enough – and found himself beside Carl and Michonne. “I have a quickly thought out plan,” he told them between quick breaths as Carl looked around to see the others – Daryl, Tara, Rosita and some other people Ethan recognise – come closer to them, with varying looks of fear on their faces. Negan said something about the Alexandrians lining up in front of their houses.

His heart was beating so fast and so hard it felt like it was going to burst through his chest. “I’ll go up there and talk to him.”

“Then I kill Rick in front of everybody and we move on. You have three, count ‘em, _three_ minutes to open this gate or we start bombing the shit out of you.” Negan whistled the Savior whistle.

“Come on,” Carl said, doing something to the grate before he stood up beside Michonne. “Michonne, come on.”

The three started running, Negan’s whistle following them. “Ethan, please stay safe,” Carl said as they ran side by side.

“You too, man,” he said, trying to hide the fear he felt inside him. “I’ll try not to get killed.”

They got to one of the vehicles and started piling the goods into the bags they had for some of the others to take. “You need to make it look like we’re escaping out back. Head to the woods, half-way to the quarry, cut out the lights,” Carl instructed of the others. “They get enough of a lead on them, hit them, and get away on foot. You know where we’ll be.” Carl said as he closed the bag. “Just have to get the guns, get everyone else here, and we’ll meet you there.”

“Two minutes, people. Dig deep,” said Negan’s amplified voice as he paused his whistling. “I want these apologies to be memorable. Bonus points for creativity. Work up a poem, sing a song, I love that shit.”

“Get going,” Carl and Ethan said together. “There’s gonna be people in the infirmary that are gonna need your help.” Carl continued, and Tobin and Scott nodded before going to the infirmary with another person.

Tara moved forwards as Negan whistled again. “Look, we got guns, we can fight them,”

Ethan shook his head. “Maybe, but we’re outnumbered, and maybe outgunned. Carl’s right.”

“Carl, we can’t just let them have this place,” Michonne said.

“We can. All we need to do is survive tonight. This is my show, you said that. This is my plan and you’re gonna do it. You’re all gonna do it.”

“It’s a solid plan. Let’s just hope Negan doesn’t fucking murder us.” Ethan said, voice sounding strangely optimistic. Maybe he was delirious. “Let’s go!”

They all ran off in their separate directions, and Ethan ran to the gates, past Daryl who didn’t even look at him.

It broke his heart.

He wondered if he’d say anything more to Daryl after confronting Negan.

Carl and Ethan pulled up the ladder placed it against the lookout post at the top of the wall.

“Be careful,” Carl said quietly.

“I know. Go!” Ethan replied, getting a couple steps up the ladder before Carl grabbed his arm. Ethan turned around and then Carl was kissing him. It barely lasted half a second before Carl pulled away. “You’re a fucking idiot, pretty boy.”

Ethan climbed the ladder, finding it hard to breathe as Carl ran off further into Alexandria.

“Okie dokie. You fucking brought this on yourself, Rick.” Negan said. “You see, I was fucking willing to fucking work with you. All you had to do was follow a few very simple fucking rules. But now? Well, now I see that you got to fucking go. Scorched earth, you _dick_!”

“Dumbass, he’s not here,” Ethan said as he stood up. He saw how everyone turned their guns up onto him. “You sound like a fool, talking to someone who ain’t here.”

Negan laughed. “Holy shit. Everybody hold your fire, it’s Ethan! Look at you, answering a door like a big boy! I am so proud. Dad-in-law’s not home, huh?” he asked, grin plastered on his face.  Ethan glanced at the Saviors below him, and he felt his stomach turn when he saw Jason there. “Well, I guess he’s gonna get back to a big ol’ smoky surprise.”

Ethan could sense in the distance the people of Alexandria running, doing what Carl had asked of them. “You do know there’s families in here. Kids. That – y’know – aren’t super fucked up from being stuck in the Sanctuary. Carl’s – Carl’s little sister.”

It was hard to read Negan’s facial expression. “Well, that shit just breaks my heart. But you know there’s kids at the Sanctuary. You saw them, you babysat a few of them too. What makes them so different? Because they lived in the Sanctuary instead of this fucking place? There was a little baby at one of the outposts,” Negan said, and Ethan was reminded of Gracie, whom he had gotten very attached to very quickly, even if he hadn’t been around her for more than a few hours.

Ethan wasn’t going to let her have a shitty upbringing with the Saviors.

“I wonder what happened to her?”

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

Negan walked along the path, coming closer to Ethan, standing a few feet away from where he stood, several feet above them. “Ethan, you know none of this shit is fucking fair. Hell, you fucking well know that. You had to witness me kill your own fucking mom and had to have that chest of yours torn open. That is super fucked up. Ergo, we need someone in charge who’s willing to do whatever it fucking takes to make sure that shit doesn’t fucking happen. Oh, wait. That’s me!”

“Bad shit happens, but this shit doesn’t have to fly. There’s people in here who didn’t come with to fight, who don’t have to fucking die. So we can stop this dramatic shit and figure _shit out_.”

“Oh, now you wanna fucking talk? See, Rick had it that I motherfucking died no fucking matter what.” _That’s still on the table,_ Ethan thought, but didn’t dare verbalise it. “He gave my people a choice. Not me. So, now we’re gonna need a new understanding. Apologies, punishment –”

“Kill me.” Ethan said. It was loud enough that it echoed and silenced Negan. Ethan was sure that his heart had just stopped beating altogether as his nerves finally gave in. But he kept his gaze on Negan, whose grin began to fall, and he looked at Ethan in a way Ethan couldn’t quite figure out. Shock? He didn’t dare look at Jason, too terrified to see how he felt about his eldest child telling someone to kill him. Ethan had a good idea that Jason wanted Negan to finish Ethan.

“What did you say?” Negan asked, and Ethan barely caught it as he’d said it so quietly.

Ethan laughed and gave a sad smile, turning his gaze away before he looked back at Negan. “Kill me,” his voice was wavering and sounded wet from supressed tears. “My-my life for all of them. I know I’m not much, but I know I fucked up in your eyes. My death would be punishment enough. You know what I mean to Rick and Carl –” Ethan couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “– Carl loves me, he told me himself. If I died for the rest of the Alexandrians, the pain it would cause him would-would fuck up Rick too. And that’s-that’s what you want, right? To fuck Rick over enough to bend into submission.” He sniffled, trying not to cry, but he could see it working on Negan. “Kill me and you’ll get what you want. You want someone to kill, to punish, so you might as well kill me. I’m serious.”

“You wanna die?”

He couldn’t help but laugh again, and it sounded broken and sad and he wished it wouldn’t come to this. “No, not really. But my brother is dead – how can he be alive after all this time?” The air got caught in his throat for a second before he continued talking. He couldn’t talk about Eli at a time like this. “I don’t want to die, but I will. It’s good enough. And-and if me dying will stop this, if we can make things different for us, for you, for all those kids, it’d be worth it.”

Negan looked away from him for a second before he looked back up at him. Ethan continued talking. “I mean, was this the plan? Was it supposed to be this way? Is this who you wanted to be?”

There was a crash and Ethan knew it was time to get the fuck out of there.

“Son of a bitch, Ethan!” Negan yelled as Ethan slid down the ladder, grabbing the bag Carl had given him as he went. “Was that just a play?” he heard Negan shout as he crashed to the floor. He was quickly back on his feet and set off one of the smoke grenades, running and setting different ones off as he went. “I thought we were having a moment, you little fucking asshole! Bombs away!”

Ethan looked back in time to see a grenade fly over the top of the walls. Without thinking he jumped onto the car in front of him and jumped up into the air. He caught the grenade and flung it back over the wall and heard the bomb go off.

Other bombs went off around him and he set off the smoke grenades around him. He got close to the church, but that went up in flames. Ethan looked around, swearing under his breath as he moved closer to a car. Fire erupted in front of him, and the shockwave knocked him backwards.

His head collided with the asphalt roughly, and then his ears were ringing as fresh air wafted over them. Ethan blinked owlishly, disorientated for a moment before a faint booming sound brought him back to his senses. His hands went to his ears and he swore and sat up, looking for those old BTEs of his. He found them and put them back in, scrambling to his feet, but found a sharp pain in his belly that had him collapse back onto the floor. Gasping, Ethan made to put a hand to the area, but the feel of warm metal and blood made him stop.

“Fuck,” he hissed, looking down at the shrapnel embedded in his abdomen. “Oh, shit, oh, _fuck_.”

In the distance, he saw others with their own smoke grenades, and he made to get up, only for pain to kick up in his abdomen. Ethan ignored it, moving to his feet as quickly as he could, but the movement of the metal made him wince, whimpering from the pain as it shifted in his abdomen. Houses on the side blew up and he looked around, trying to spot a manhole cover. It was time to go underground. There was so much smoke and fire, there was no other place to go except where they had planned to go.

Ethan heard a crash and guessed Negan had ran the trucks through the gates. He finally found a manhole cover.

“ON THE GROUND, KID!” a man yelled. Ethan pulled his last smoke grenade and it hid him from view long enough to clamber into the manhole and pull the cover back over. He dropped down a few sets of the ladder and watched as the man ran over the cover and looked around for him, unaware Ethan was right beneath him.

It was dark in the sewers, but not bad enough for Ethan to be utterly blind. His senses were going haywire, and it felt like they were directing him where to go. Ethan used the wall as a support, the weight on his wound aching. He hoped he wouldn’t bleed out. It felt like hours, listening to the bombing from above before he saw some light ahead of him. Ethan felt like he didn’t know what he’d do if it was one of the Saviors and his family were dead. The adrenaline was coursing through him.

“Ethan,” someone said, and when he looked around, he saw Rick and Michonne. His hopes rose slightly. “Ethan, you’re –” Rick got closer and pressed a hand to Ethan’s wound.

Fire-like pain burst through him, knocking the adrenaline into nothingness. It took all Ethan had not to scream. Tears stung at his eyes and he tried not to let out a noise. “Fucking hurts,”

The shrapnel from the car had gotten deeper in his belly from all his walking around. Rick grabbed hold of him, pulling his arm around his shoulders and took most of his bodyweight as they walked towards the light. Ethan tried not to fuck himself up even more.

“Not how I planned this night to go,” he muttered to Rick, smiling slightly as Michonne took his other arm around her and helped ease the weight away more. Rick huffed something that could’ve been a laugh. “Fucking car exploded in front of me. Saviors and their grenades.”

“Move,” Rick commanded of the people in the sewer once they had finally gotten to their people. Explosions happened overhead, shaking the sewers. Now that the adrenaline and the panic had faded, the pain was becoming more prominent. As Rick and Michonne pulled Ethan along, Ethan recognised the faces of the people they passed. And they all looked scared, worried.

Ethan knew his wound wasn’t too bad, but there was every possibility it could get infected and that could mean him losing his life, if it got out of hand. God, he hated thinking about the serious shit in his life.

“Ethan,” Daryl said, standing up as Rick dragged Ethan along, the pain in his abdomen starting to get unbearable with every move it took. “Get that bed free,” he growled, and the man from the gas station moved off it. Why the fuck was he there?

Rick eased Ethan down onto it, trying not to mess him up more. Ethan had to bite back his on his tongue as the pain worsened. “How deep d’you reckon that is?” he asked, looking at the shrapnel from the car in his body. “Feels deep.” Ethan rested his head on the pillow on the bed and saw Carl there. “Hey, man.”

“Fuck’re you trying to do, get yourself killed?” he asked. “We heard you when you were talking to Negan. Dumbass. And I saw you run and grab that goddamn grenade, are you suicidal?”

“I have no self-preservation skills, but no, I’m not trying to get myself killed you hypocrite,” Ethan retorted. “Least I know to keep my damn hair short.”

The man from the gas station came over, knelt on the floor. How the hell was he there? “May I see?”

Ethan nodded and winced when they cut and lifted his t-shirt to see the wound better. “It’s deep. You’ll need stitches. I don’t know if it’s hit any arteries, vessels or muscle. It’s keeping the blood from going places it shouldn’t be –”

“That crap should be inside me, I think it’s doing a good job.”

“But if we don’t get it out, some blood might not go where it should go.”

“Can you fix it?” Daryl asked, holding Judith close to him as he stood beside Carl. It was rare to see worry on Daryl’s face, but Ethan spotted it as clear as day when he looked up at him.

The man shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. If we had the proper supplies. The minimum he needs is stitches and painkillers. I have some anti-inflammatories, but they won’t help until after.”

“You’re a doctor then?” asked Ethan, trying to change the subject a little. “Cos if you’re not, I’m terrified.”

“I was a resident before. Uh, my name’s Siddiq.” Ethan had no idea what Siddiq meant by resident, so hoped to high-heaven that that meant he knew his shit.

“Did you know he’s a doctor?” Rick asked of his son.

“He wasn’t going to make it alone. He needed us, that’s why.”

There was an explosion again, this one much closer, and the dust fell down on Ethan, who began coughing. The coughing sent shockwaves in his body and he tried to stay still but the pain was intense. He put a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound that came out of it.

“What about the Hilltop? We take him there?” asked Carl, looking and sounding frantic.

Siddiq had a look on his face. “Depending on the road, it could make things worse. The shrapnel is already in deep, and we don’t know how sharp it is inside. One bump in the road and he could be dead in minutes.”

Ethan sighed. “Enlightening.”

“Ethan,” Michonne said, and he turned his head to look at her. “You know your choices.”

“Fuck it. I’m gonna die one way or another. This’ll be fun. But you should probably get the others to the Hilltop. Maggie’ll know what to do. She’s awesome like that.” He offered her a smile. “Did I ever tell you guys I fucking hated coming here?” he joked, and she laughed but he could see the fear and nerves in her eyes. “Could’a been out there looking for Eli, but no, I decide to stick with you lot. Pain in my _ass_ ,”

“I think you mean pain in your side,” she replied, and he nodded. Ethan saw the others disperse, most likely heading to the Hilltop. Some offered their farewells, and it felt oddly daunting.

Ethan tried to relax his muscle, prepare himself for the pain he was about to go through. “Hey, Daryl, go take Jude to Hilltop. She can make friends with Aaron’s new kid. Apparently, I have a sister now. Everyone else should go there too. Alexandria’s currently fucked over.”

“I ain’ leavin’ yeh,”

Ethan laughed. “You’re not getting a choice. You take Jude and this asshole here,” he pointed to Carl. “and get the fuck out of here while you still can. You’ve got a long way to go, might as well start now.” He patted Carl’s arm. “Go on. Your sister’ll need you. I’ll be fine.”

“You have to be.” Carl replied, then kissed Ethan’s forehead before he got up and left with Daryl and the others, most of whom kept glancing back at him. Ethan wished he had better last words with them.

Michonne stroked the side of his face. “You ready?” she asked as she took hold of his hand, holding it tightly between both of hers.

He laughed. “Hell, no,” he said. “Might need something to gag me with. Can’t make any noise to bring them down on us.”

Rick fumbled a little and then he was holding out his belt. Ethan put part of it in his mouth and bit down on it. Siddiq looked at him nervously. Ethan said a muffled ‘fuck’ and nodded his head.

To say he was glad he asked for the gag was an understatement. The harshness of it made it feel like the inside of his throat was being torn open. Ethan’s teeth sunk into the leather of the belt in his mouth as his hand gripped Michonne’s so tightly it might break. But his mind had gone blank, and there was nothing but pain.

And then he felt Siddiq moving something cold and metallic inside his body, and it felt so surreal he thought he was going to throw up.

It must’ve been a second later and then Ethan passed out.


	23. Heavy Words

When Ethan Dolori regained consciousness, he was brought back to pain and discomfort. So, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Fucking hell,” he said, but he didn’t hear it. His eyesight was blurry, and it took a moment for things to come into focus.

Beside him was Maggie and Michonne, both of whom were smiling and talking in what Ethan assumed was a happy tone in Ethan’s direction. Not that he could hear them.

“I can’t hear a word you’re saying.” he informed them. Maggie reached over and put his hearing aids in for him. Her touch was weirdly gentle.

“Siddiq was surprised at what he found,” Michonne began. “The shrapnel was larger in width than it was longer in length. You’ll have one hell of a scar, but it didn’t go as deep as we thought it had. You’re gonna need to take it easy, but your abdomen won’t be super fucked up.”

Ethan laughed. “Two for two on dangerous surgeries I shouldn’t have come out of alive but did anyway.” He sat up and scratched at the back of his head, wincing at the slight pull of stitches. “I’d like to get out of here, got any crutches?” he said, offering the two a smile. “Or … wheelchair. I’m doing for not walking around for a bit

Maggie chuckled a little. “You’re determined, I’ll give you that. I think Carson left a walking stick around here.” Maggie got up and searched around the trailer, shifting things out of the way to get it.

A hand went over his and he looked at Michonne. “You gave us a little fright when you passed out. But Siddiq got you through it. He’s been charged with staying in here for a while with the other … doctors. He’s had us keep those anti-inflammatories to help with pain and swelling as well as some antibiotics for the risks of bacterial infection. You also get some Advil for the pain.”

“Oh, lucky me, on all the drugs today,” he said, shaking his head. “How did you get me here?” he asked as Maggie returned, walking stick in hand.

“We drove for a while, but the car ran out of gas. We carried you from there on out. It took a while, but we got you here. They let Siddiq set you up here. You’d been out only a few hours since we got here. You’ve not missed much. But you did wake up a few times, but I didn’t think you’d remember any of those times.”

“Good. Y’know I’m a stickler for the drama and danger.”

Maggie smiled and shook her head, deciding to change the subject. “There are some wheelchairs around this place, but you’re not in any immediate danger to be in one.” She placed the stick to the side of the bed he was on and helped him, along with Michonne, to get him to have his legs swing over the bed, the pain in his abdomen present with every shift of muscle and skin.

Ethan’s fresh wound ached, but he paid it no mind. Taking hold of the walking stick, he tested it by putting some weight onto it. “This’ll be fun,”

“Let’s go,” Michonne said, leading Ethan and Michonne out of the trailer.

“Fuck, it’s warm,” said Ethan once he’d stepped outside. “There’s a lot of people. Kingdom get screwed over too?” he asked, turning to look at Maggie.

“Yes. We’re struggling with rations and with the prisoners … we’re down to quarter rations at least.”

Ethan sighed. “Wish we’d gotten all the shit from the Alexandria pantry. Could’ve got it to half rations,” he joked, leaning into her side a little before they kept walking. Their pace was slow as Ethan got adjusted to using the walking stick and trying not to pop his stitches. His free hand went over the area, a gentle press to ease some of the pain away.

“Thank you. For going to Alexandria and giving the letters. I’m sorry you went; you got hurt because of me.”

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. “Maggie. I get hurt all the time. Coincidence that I got hurt after being sent there. I could trip over a tree root out there and get bit by a walker. Not your fault I was standing too close to an exploding car.”

It got a laugh out of Maggie. “That really is the dumbest way to get hurt. I’m glad you’re OK now. Recovery might hurt and be a pain, but you’re OK. If a little hungry.”

Ethan looked up at the distorted sound of footsteps. He took out a hearing aid out and frowned, dread coming back to his system as he turned the damn thing on and off again. That usually worked with faulty technology. He put it back in as Rick and Carl appeared. None of the adults seemed surprised that Carl hugged Ethan tightly. Ethan returned the gesture, a slight discomfort to being seen by the adults.

“Still kicking,” he said over Carl’s shoulder to Rick, who huffed a laugh. “Have you heard from Negan? I may have pissed him off,” he said as Carl pulled away and held onto Ethan’s wrist loosely.

“Yeah, we heard. He got in contact with us after a while, when you were unconscious. Mentioned how you said you were willing to die. So we played along and said you’d died. Funnily enough, he sounded sad over your fake death,” Rick said. That hadn’t been something he expected.

“Did he say anything about Jason? Guy wasn’t too happy I was up there talking to them to begin with,”

Rick shrugged his shoulders. “We don’t know yet, but we’re bettin’ on Negan telling him. However he reacts is how he reacts, but you’ll be safe. They won’t know to come after you now.”

Maggie said something about needing to talk to Eduardo and patted Ethan’s back before she left them. “Guess he was serious about making me into his apprentice. Freak. So I guess that means I have to go incognito. But the prisoners have already seen me around and that dumbass bastard knows I’m alive,”

“Dumbass bastard?” Rick asked, frowning at Ethan. Instead of verbally answering, he pointed to Alden. Who fucking waved, looking rather cheerful when Ethan gave him attention. “ _That_ dumbass.” said Rick, like he had a severe understanding to what kind of level of dumbass Alden was. It was sort of amusing. “You know him?” he asked as he turned back around to look at Ethan.

“Name’s Alden. He’s a prick, but not that bad of a guy. Knew him before the Sanctuary and we got split up when we were in there. Last I remember, he’s a good guy.”

And then Ethan wondered if Eric would think Alden was a good guy. He knew Ethan knew him before and had seen his expressions as he spoke about him. But he knew he’d never know what Eric thought ever again.

“Maggie already mentioned that you trust him more than the others in there with him.”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, I mean, he was with me before. Took a few hits from Jason so me and-and Eli and Mom wouldn’t have to. There’ll be some in there who don’t want to be Saviors and will end up seeing that Negan and Simon don’t give a shit about them, so they’ll change sides.”

“How much would you trust this Alden guy?”

He knew he’d been asked this before, but … it wasn’t an easy question to answer. “Dunno. Enough. When it comes down to it, he’d save your life. Saved mine enough times, I think I owe him at least some trust.”

It didn’t appear to be the answer Rick had been looking for. _Tough shit,_ Ethan thought.

God, the more he saw Alden, the more memories were being brought up and the more he thought he could trust him. But he knew that shit had changed for them both. They were different people who had gone through a lot of shit. But that look was still in Alden’s eyes whenever Ethan looked at him.

Fuck, he knew it’d get him into shit, but he trusted his friend.

“Has Aaron returned?” Ethan asked, diverting the attention from the topic of his friend.

“No. Enid returned fine, but she said that Aaron was still out there, trying to convince Oceanside to help.”

“Great.” Ethan didn’t want to lose another father figure.

*

Something had changed.

Something had most definitely changed between Ethan and Carl. And Ethan wasn’t sure as to what. Well, he had a few theories. Most of them involved Saviors or were Savior related. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about or contemplate, but it was shit he had to get through eventually. God, he wished life wasn’t so complicated and full of drama. He just wanted his brother.

“I’m glad to see you moving around,” said Jesus as Ethan sat down beside him. Jesus handed over Gracie, who he’d been looking after. She smiled when she recognised Ethan’s face. It broke Ethan’s heart a little. “It’s been so busy, but I’m glad to see you awake. For a moment I was worried we’d lose you.”

“Like you’d ever be so lucky,” Ethan said, smiling at Jesus as he swung his leg, holding Gracie like he had done with Eli years prior. “Haven’t you heard? Rick says I don’t die. Well, specifically he said we don’t die, so I’m guessing there’s more than me and him that are immortal.”

It was good to see Jesus smile. God knew the man needed something to smile about. His dumbass boyfriend was being a bigger dumbass than usual. “Don’t get yourself fucked up too much. We’ve got a war to go through.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.” He looked around, and spotted Carl by the blacksmiths. Gracie wiggled in his hold and he shifted her on his leg, bouncing it up and down slightly as his eyebrows came together. “You’re old,” Ethan said, then realised exactly what he said and looked back around to Jesus, eyes wide. “That came out wrong.”

“You bet it did.” Jesus laughed a little and bumped shoulders with Ethan. “Rephrase it. I’m not as old as you think,”

Ethan felt a ghost of a smile on his face as he tried to get the right words out. “Something’s up with Carl,” he said, feeling himself frown as the words came out. “I mean, it’s not the first time he’s seen me get hurt, and it won’t be the last. So that can’t be that. So I think he’s maybe jealous?”

That made Jesus frown with confusion too. “What do you mean?” he said, but then realisation crept on his face as he turned and looked over at the prisoners’ pen. “Your friend.”

Ethan did finger guns and mimicked some gunshot sounds. “Ten points to Hufflepuff. I’d say you’re a Hufflepuff,” he said. “But yeah, I think Carl’s jealous over Alden. Which is weird, but I get it.”

“You get it?” asked Jesus.

“Yeah. I mean, I used to be with the Saviors, so technically, I shouldn’t be trusted, but that’s another topic for another day. But that being said, I was with Alden before; he joined up with me, Jason, Mom and Eli. We were friends, might still be. He’s like my best friend. Enid is now, after everything, but he’d been there first. So they’re both my best friends. And … I’m allowed to miss who Alden used to be and what he was to me, and there still might be a part of the guy I once knew in who he is today. Hell, he still remembers how to speak Korean to me, so I guess that’s still there.”

“He knows Korean?”

There was a sort of nostalgic smile on Ethan’s face as he lowered his head slightly, readjusting his hold on Gracie, making sure she didn’t slip. “Yeah, me and Mom taught him. He sucks at sign, so supposed Korean was a good enough substitute. Drove Jason _mad_ ,” he said, trying to get the smile off his face, but found he couldn’t. “I’m allowed to miss him, aren’t I? And be sad I can’t talk to him and-and fix our friendship, right?”

Jesus nodded his head. “Of course. And I recommend that you talk about these things with Carl. He doesn’t strike me as the jealous type. Maybe he’s just been misinformed?”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m gonna try and talk to him soon. I was a little surprised, but it felt different being around him.”

Although Ethan wasn’t quite sure when, he didn’t mind that. He had no idea how to broach the subject to Carl, and what Carl’s reactions would be. It occurred to him he had never really wanted a relationship before, but now he was in one and facing an issue.

And Ethan usually ran from his issues.

“You’re not looking too happy.”

“Why can’t gay people never have these fucking issues?” he muttered, and then Jesus was laughing beside him. It was nice to hear him laugh.

“As much as I’d love to continue this talk and coach you in the ways of relationships – which I’ve never been too good at myself – I have some businesses to attend to.”

Ethan pushed Jesus’ side a little. “Don’t beat yourself up, you bagged the secluded, redneck Daryl fucking Dixon.”

“And that turned out so well.”

“What?” Ethan asked, but Jesus had already started walking away, and seemed to be pointedly ignoring Ethan. “Asshole,” he said grumpily, turning Gracie around so she could look up at his face as he smiled brightly at her. “Isn’t he? He’s one giant asshole!” Gracie giggled, hands clapping together before Ethan tickled her a little.

“Hope you’re not talking about me,” said a familiar voice, and Ethan felt his heart leap out of his chest. “How’s your wound?” Carl asked as he sat beside Ethan, sitting on the opposite side Jesus had been on. He smiled at Gracie and tickled her chin a little before he looked back up at Ethan.

“It’s fine. Hurts like a bitch though. How’re you?”

Carl shrugged a shoulder. Ethan wondered if he should bring up his observations. “I miss Alexandria. And I’m pissed at you. Not to mention annoyed.”

That was a terrifying thought that made Ethan’s gut churn. “If you’re not pissed and annoyed at me, am I even doing this right?” he asked, smiling before he decided it was time to get serious. “C’mon, in relationships, we’re supposed to talk. That’s apparently healthy.”

There was a moment of silence that stretched between them. It lasted longer than what Ethan was comfortable with.

“Carl, I’m sorry I told Negan I’d be OK with dying for the cause, and I’m sorry I told him what you told me. I probably shouldn’t have, but it’s in the past now.”

Carl made a scoffing noise, shaking his head. It scared Ethan with Carl so clearly mad with him. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have. I’m so fucking pissed you said all those things. And, like, I try and get it because you were desperate to give everyone time to get away and hide, but … I love you and I don’t wanna see you get hurt and I don’t know what I’d do.”

Ethan tried his best to hold back the tears. Gracie laid against Ethan’s abdomen, her small hands clutching at the material of his clothes before she yawned. He held her in place as she nodded off into sleep. “Listen, you mean so much to me. And I know I’m a dickhead sometimes, or a lot of the times, but I’d do anything for you.” He rested his head against Carl’s shoulder and felt an arm go around his waist.

“I just … sometimes it feels like you’re slipping away from me.” Carl said honestly, and Ethan could hear the fear and sadness in his voice. “You’ve already changed so much from this war and it’s not been that long since it started. I don’t want to lose you.”

“And you won’t,” he said, lifting his head up and he gave Carl a smile. “I promised you that you won’t lose me, so you won’t.”

And Ethan knew he said he’d say it after everything was over, but he didn’t know if either of them would last long enough to see that happen. The tears were back, stinging at the backs of his eyes and he wouldn’t let them fall. His arm went around Carl’s back and he smiled again. “Hey,” he said softly, and Carl looked at him. He was really going to do it. “I love you.”

Then Carl kissed him.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from Ethan’s shoulders, but at the same time, a heavier one had been placed there. Ethan pulled away after a second or two, and let Carl wrap his arms around him and Gracie, and Ethan tried to memorise his scent and just how warm his hold was. He didn’t want to lose him.

He wondered if the prisoners in the pen had seen what they did, and if Alden was mad or not.

*

Ethan had seen Maggie on watch alongside Rosita. He would’ve gone up and say hello, but his side wouldn’t quite let him. It didn’t take too long for Rosita to go out with a car and retrieve something that had been a little bit outside the walls. It piqued Ethan’s curiosity enough to get him moving in their direction when Rosita drove the car back in.

“Fuck’s that?” Ethan asked as he ended up beside Michonne, looking at the crates. She shrugged as Maggie took the letter from Rosita.

“’If you fill the crates with food or phonograph records, I will gladly exchange them for a key to your future.’”

“Those are coordinates for our meeting spot,” Rosita pointed out. Maggie walked towards the trunk of the car, handing Michonne the note.

“This isn’t the Saviors,” she said with a shake of her head as Ethan quickly read over the note. “They blow through the gates, make a big show. This isn’t that.”

Maggie and Rosita spoke of how if it were actually the Saviors, it was a very obvious trap and Maggie wouldn’t put it past them. But Ethan felt weird about it.

He looked over at Maggie, who was looking at him in that way of hers. “I don’t think it’s the Saviors. As smart as some of them are … I doubt they’d actually go through with this. Simon and the other righthand men are more violent. They’re manipulative assholes that we pissed off. They’ll attack more than trap at this moment, I think.”

“What if … what if it’s someone who actually wants to help?” Michonne asked. Which Ethan thought was a good concept, and would be an even nicer reality, but it was weird. It could be a trap from another group of survivors, wanting the walls and security they had.

“If there’s someone who’s trying to help us, and we miss out, we miss out. Someone who’s trying to kill us, we die.” Maggie said, frown on her face.

“Not if we’re careful.” Michonne retorted.

Ethan looked over at Enid, who had a look of worry and concern on her face as of late. He couldn’t blame her. “Being safe means staying here,”

Shrugging, Ethan looked back at Michonne, repeating her words. “Not if we’re careful.”

“I’ll go. I’ll see what’s up,” Michonne said, nodding her head a little as she looked between their small group.

Rosita’s response was instant. “You go, I go.”

“Rick wants us here,” Enid said, looking at Michonne with crossed arms.

“I know. But the last time we took a chance like this, it changed everything. Rick didn’t agree with me then, he may not understand me now.”

“He won’t.” Ethan wondered where the fuck Rick had gone off to. He hadn’t seen him since he first woke up back in the Hilltop.

“But eventually he will. He will.” Michonne made to walk off, moving past Maggie who took Michonne’s place of being beside Ethan.

“Jesus and the others have been scavenging and we’re still starving. Maybe this person does have something that can help.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Enid said.

“OK,” Maggie said quickly, turning and nodding her head at Enid once.

“Wish I wasn’t fucked at the moment, or I’d come along on this adventure,”

“We need you resting. As much as I want you to be by my side when we’re out there, I want you to be healing here. And making sure shit doesn’t go down. You’ll help run this place while I’m gone.” Maggie told him. She looked at the rest of them. “I’ll grab records in case this is real. You get extra clips in case it isn’t.” she told Enid as she checked her magazine. “Ethan, I hope you’ve got good music taste,” Maggie said, and it was enough to get him moving after her, smiling a little.

Maggie and Ethan were in her office, looking at the piles of records they had gotten from around Hilltop. “Be careful out there,” he said to her. “I’ll deal with the records, you go see if they’re actually needed or not. You gotta meet them at some point, right?”

She smiled at him and nodded her head a little. “You’ll be alright here, and you can help keep charge of this place while I’m not here.”

It made him almost smile in return. “You trust me to run this place?”

“I trust you with my life.” Maggie got up and left, leaving Ethan alone in her office, shocked to the bone. It hadn’t ended well for the last person who had said that to him.

And so he started going through the records. It was boring work, but considering his livelihood, he embraced the boringness that came with sorting through records. They did remind him of his past; something Jason listened to in the past, something that Omma had told him about. If he tried hard enough, he could remember a melody from a musician he’d find within the mass of records.

All the while, Gracie played in her cot with the toys they’d given her. Ethan kept an eye on her and felt himself smile whenever she laughed or smiled or looked at him. She gave him hope in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Most of the records were dusty, and he was glad he wasn’t an asthmatic, but did open a few of the windows in Maggie’s office. It was getting warmer with each passing day too, so keeping the windows open felt like it’d help instead of letting him melt from the heat. Ethan wasn’t really sure how long he’d kept himself hidden away in the office, but enough time had passed that Carl had come looking for him. Besides, Gracie didn’t like the heat too much, he had to take her outside soon.

“Hey,” Carl said as he slipped in through the doors. “You alright?” he asked as he came and leaned against the desk, where two crates had been filled with records, and a small pile had been left that had word of mouth on. He suspected the people who specifically asked for music wouldn’t want to hear dead people talking. Ethan was standing a little over one of the crates, not too sure on whether the record in hand classed as music or not. He guessed there was no harm in putting it in, because the chances were, it was music rather than something else.

Ethan put his hands on the edge of the desk, putting some of his weight on it and off his legs, wincing a little at the shift of skin on his abdomen wound. “I’m fine. Just hurts a little, so I took some meds. Daren’t put weight on it in case Siddiq comes and tells me off.”

Carl smiled knowingly. “He’s already done that?”

“Twice,” Ethan said sheepishly, meeting Carl’s eyes with a shy smile.

Being around Carl felt different now, like something had changed again. But Ethan wasn’t sure if it was good or not. There was still the jealousy he sensed from Carl, and he knew he needed to talk to Carl about that at some point or other. But something else had changed, and Ethan guessed it was because he told Carl that he loved him. And he did. But … it hadn’t felt quite right to tell him then, in the heat of the moment – the heat of the fucking _war_ – and Ethan had already been injured, and who knew what else could happen to him, or even to Carl? He’d wanted to wait until after the war to tell him, because then maybe Ethan would’ve felt more comfortable telling him.

Telling Carl he loved him in the middle of the war with the Saviors felt wrong, almost … fake. But he couldn’t talk to Carl about it; he didn’t know how to. Ethan wished Jesus, or Aaron were there to help.

God, he missed Aaron so _much_.

“What’s on your mind?” asked Carl, shifting closer to Ethan, shoulders bumping together.

“Miss Aaron, s’all,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, not really looking at Carl, staring into space a little. Ethan pressed his lips together for a second. “Michonne and Enid told me where he’s gone – off to persuade Oceanside to help, even though we took their guns and got fucked over. Y’know, bastard didn’t even say bye to me. Just upped and-and left.” Ethan’s eyes stung again, and he tried to hold the stupid tears back. _Boys don’t cry_ , Jason’s voice said in his head. _Shut up!_ he thought.

Carl got closer again and rested his forehead on Ethan’s shoulder for a second before he put his arm around Ethan and looked back up at him. “You’re allowed to be upset over it. My dad left too, without telling me bye.”

“Just, he left and left Gracie too. He took responsibility of her and then just left, and what? I’m supposed to look after her by myself?”

“You’re not by yourself. You’ve got everyone here at Hilltop, and Maggie and Enid when they come back. And you’ve got me. I’m an expert in little sisters.”

Ethan didn’t think he was an expert in little brothers anymore, so didn’t respond to Carl’s statement. Carl seemed to notice Ethan’s emotions start to screw him over, and squeezed him a little, turning Ethan so he was facing him. Ethan went into Carl’s waiting arms, resting his head on Carl’s shoulder, trying to relax. The tension started to leave his body at a steady pace and the two boys just held onto each other.

“Did Jerry tell you about Shiva?”

“What?” Ethan mumbled, having a feeling he knew what had happened. “Oh fuck, the tiger’s fucking dead. Fuck me. I really liked Shiva.”

“She really liked you,” Carl said, and they both remembered just how fond of Shiva Ethan had been, and how Shiva hadn’t eaten their faces off when she approached them in Alexandria. “Talking about people who really like you –”

Ethan rolled his eyes. He pulled away a little, hands going up and brushing Carl’s ridiculously long hair from his face. He knocked off the hat from Carl’s head. “Listen, as far as I’m aware, I’ve only got eyes for you – as weird as that phrase is, but you know what I mean. And Alden is just a friend, maybe not even that, because, y’know, Savior.” He smiled a little. “Alden’s an asshole anyway. Not my type.”

“You knew?”

“You were acting different. Not that hard to connect the dots. Paul knew and I’m pretty sure Michonne could tell too.” Ethan said with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’re easy for me to read,”

“Wish it was as easy with you sometimes,” Carl said, then quickly continued when he saw Ethan’s confusion. “Sometimes I don’t know where we are in our-our relationship. Like, I know we’re not gonna do certain things ever, and I’m totally cool with that, it’s just … you keep things from me. Which I get, because I probably keep things from you too. But you can be so closed off sometimes. And I know you’re trying; you showed me the scars on your body, and you talk about your past to me sometimes. But I sometimes feel like you’re a stranger to me because every time you come back from being out there, you change, and I can’t keep up with these changes sometimes.”

Although Ethan didn’t think he was as secretive as Carl was making out, he guessed he spoke to the men he thought of as parental figures more than with Carl, especially on certain aspects.

God, he was so fucked up.

“I’m sorry I make you feel that way. Words aren’t my forte, but I do like talking to you,” said Ethan, making a smile break out on Carl’s face. “Obviously. And you can ask me about stuff, it just takes a while to form the words that’ll fit what I’ll want to try and express,”

“So long as you’re not a stranger to me, then it’s OK.”

Ethan thought he might’ve been glad when Gracie started crying at that point, needing their attention.

Relationships were so much harder than what people made them out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.  
> Happy reading :)


	24. Mortal Wounds

Ethan saw Kal open the gates and then the car Maggie had taken came back in, along with one Ethan didn’t recognise. Carl stood up and gave Ethan a hand up as the cars got closer to Barrington. Maggie came out and had a look on her face that Ethan guessed as her figuring-shit-out face. She tended to have that one on a lot.

In the other car came out three people that Ethan didn’t recognise.

“Are they the people who left the crates?” asked Carl.

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “Probably.” he said as Maggie led the three people to one of the benches outside of Barrington before she went inside. Rosita kept watch of them.

“Hello,” the woman who looked like the leader of the trio said. Ethan gave her a little wave, hand on the handle of the walking stick. “What happened to you?”

“Car exploded next to me,” he said, not sure as to why he was telling her as he gestured his side, where the bandage was hidden from view. He needed to see Siddiq about whether he ought to change the bandaging or not. “You wanted music?”

“Preferable to word of mouth on records,” she said. “My name is Georgie, this is Hilda and Midge. What’s your name?”

Ethan looked at this woman, Georgie. “Why did you want the records? And, y’know, food. Which we don’t really have,”

The woman kept a steady look on the woman. “Music is … something that keeps track of our past. What’s your favourite artist from before the millennium?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Credence Clearwater or maybe Aretha Franklin. Roy Orbison and Don Gibson,”

The woman sat in front of him smiled. “Classics, though I believe Credence is a little more modern than Aretha, Orbison and Gibson.”

“Mom had weird tastes in music,” he said. Ethan looked back into the house, and saw Maggie hidden away in the shadows of the house. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he knew what she wanted from him.

Michonne looked like she couldn’t take it anymore and went inside.

“Where is your mom?” Georgie asked.

Ethan pointed to the edge of Barrington. “Back there. A few feet under the ground.” He looked back at her, and Ethan properly looked at her.

The woman’s clothes were … quite clean, really. They looked a little fancy, nothing too bad, but not what they wore around Hilltop. The earrings put him off a little, throwing him a little off guard. But she was smart about her hair, keeping it short. Georgie also wore glasses and her face wasn’t as trustworthy as, say, Michonne’s, but he guessed he could trust her. He saw Enid go inside Barrington too.

“My name’s Ethan.” he told her, glancing back at the window. Maggie was there and he gave her a subtle nod before he turned his gaze back onto the women in front of him.

“Wonderful to meet you, Ethan,” Georgie said. “I’m hoping to give your friend a key to your future,”

Maggie came back out with a crate of records, agreeing with the deal. Georgie changed the terms, letting them have some of their food stores, which Ethan didn’t expect. Just for records and ‘good faith’.

Georgie went into her van and brought out a book for Maggie, with things to make a future from their past. It was hard to keep track of everything. But Ethan caught the gist of things. They had a plan to build their future in the book Georgie had given Maggie. And then in a short few minutes, they were gone.

“We’ve got shit to do.” Maggie said, the determined look back on her face. Ethan was excited and terrified.

Maggie told them to prepare for an attack from Simon and his lot of Saviors, knowing he no doubt got her message from him. People were sent out already as watchers for when the Saviors would come, but Maggie had a feeling that they’d attack soon.

Everyone was preparing for their roles in the fight back, and Ethan had somehow found his way into the infirmary.

“Fuck’re you?” he asked bluntly as the woman led him inside. He saw Siddiq with some other people further inside the trailer and he seemed to have noticed Ethan’s arrival. “I wanted to check with Siddiq, see how my side’s doing.” he told the woman.

“Siddiq’s busy at the moment, but I can take a look for you.”

Ethan wasn’t sure if he was going to enjoy this check-up or not.

The woman had him sit on one of the beds and pushed up his t-shirt to show the bandaging there. There were some splatters of blood on it, seeping through the bandages. The woman looked displeased and unravelled the bandaging and then Ethan saw how fucking horrible his side looked.

Siddiq had done his best in the sewers and had been able to stop Ethan from getting an infection or bacteria in the wound as far. But it didn’t make it any prettier. Much like the scarring on his chest, the stitches holding his flesh together were slanted and didn’t really appear conventional to a usual stitching. But, considering the circumstances, Ethan had to admit that Siddiq had done better than what could’ve been expected of him.

It still fucking hurt though.

“It seems that you’re missing one or two stitches and you’ve overused your legs and moved too much, hence the bleeding. I think you might have – yeah, you popped some of those stitches. Try not to do too much and it’ll heal up fine. Let me just put some stitches in and wrap it up. Come back to us tomorrow and then a few days after that to see the progress.” The woman said, then turned and got all the equipment she needed.

She was nice enough to get some numbing cream put on his side so that he wouldn’t have to really feel the stitches. God, it was always a weird feeling – not to mention painful. But Ethan occupied himself by counting all the marks on the ceiling.

“So you’re the infamous Ethan?” the woman asked. “I’m Dana. I saw you around the Kingdom before the war started. You’re good with a bow.”

“Thanks.” he said, wincing when he felt a jab inside his flesh. It was nearly over. “I’m sorry, I never actually saw you around? I guess I got preoccupied with the archery range there.”

Dana smiled a little, before she put down the needle and grabbed some bandages before she started to wrap it around Ethan’s abdomen. “The King told us of your endeavours against the Saviors. Impressive, but foolish,”

“I think you’ll find that sums up Ethan pretty well,” a familiar voice said, and Ethan looked up over Dana and saw Enid. He smiled at her and she returned it, putting a hand on her hip as she watched Dana finish up her work. “I think you’ll have to expect him coming back a few times until this war is done, and maybe even after.” She looked amused, and Ethan knew she was right.

As Dana finished with Ethan’s side, she gave him a stern look. “As much as I’d like to get to know you better, I think I’d prefer it if you weren’t coming into the infirmary with an injury every few days.”

Ethan gave her a salute then he pushed down the t-shirt and eased himself off the bed. “I’ll try not to, ma’am. And I’ll try to go easy on myself,” he added when he saw her expression turn. Dana smiled at him and nodded Ethan and Enid away.

“Maggie reckons there’s gonna be an attack tonight,” said Enid as they got out of the infirmary.

“Not long until dark. Everyone’s been preparing, right?” Ethan asked, looking over at his friend, seeing the worry lines in her face.

“Yeah. As best as we can. We knew Simon would be attacking soon. He had to be, right?” Enid said, looking at Ethan for confirmation. He nodded and put an arm around her shoulders. “Be careful. I know what stupid shit you put yourself in.”

He felt himself smile. “I do have a nasty habit of getting myself into messes,”

“That’s putting it lightly,” said Enid, turning to smile at him slightly. But he could see the fear in her eyes. Ethan noticed how dark her eyes were – a contrast to Carl’s light blue ones. “Don’t get yourself killed. Gracie’ll need her brother and father,”

Ethan looked away, the words terrifying. “Think Aaron’ll actually pull through and be her dad?”

“If you’re willing to be her brother, he’ll be willing to be her dad.”

Was he actually going to end up being her brother? Or would he end up dead, just like Eric? Oh, god, he was thinking about Eric again. He couldn’t think bout him without his heart breaking into a billion pieces.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan waited in the shadows as the night grew longer. Beside him, Carl was standing there.

“I’m scared,” Carl whispered to him, voice carrying over the light wind.

“Me too. I’d be concerned about you if you weren’t.” Ethan said, looking at him. “Just don’t get yourself fucking killed.”

Fuck, he couldn’t lose another person he cared about.

And then they heard Daryl’s airhorn. It was starting.

In their spot hidden behind a car, Ethan saw others in Hilltop move to their spots, preparing for the rough night ahead of them. Ethan wondered how many of them they’d lose tonight. He hoped it wouldn’t be as many as he reckoned it could be. It was sudden, but they heard the sound of a car catching on the spike strip Maggie had ordered be put out on the road.

He stayed hidden by the trailers, the cars hiding them from view all the better. His bow felt heavy in his hands and the walking stick he was to use felt like a death omen. Ethan had an inkling he’d soon lose the walking stick once the bullets started firing.

And then he heard the gunfire and the roar of an engine. Daryl Dixon had fucking returned. He saw the man ride in through the gates. At least he was back.

In what felt like milliseconds after Daryl had returned, there was gunfire. He shot up and raised his gun and shot and aimed at the Saviors, Carl quickly following his lead, like the others nearby them. He heard Maggie shouting from where she was standing in the balcony, but he was moving from his hiding spot, shooting at the different Saviors that came into the Hilltop. Carl stayed hot on his heels, ducking behind the cars laid out to try and benefit them.

Several times, Ethan ducked and moved, avoiding the bullets that flew over his head, and he could hear all sorts of shouting, but all he was doing was taking aim and shooting at those he knew were bad.

Carol was shouting orders to those around her as some were knocked back, dead or dying from the bullets their bodies took. She looked almost like she belonged there; shouting orders and taking the lives of the people that had made their lives hell.

At some point, Ethan realised as he threw himself over the hood of a car and crouched down and hid from the gunfire, that he’d lost sight and sound of Carl. Ethan tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted itself uneasily. Carl was fine. He had to be. He would be.

Another bullet shot over his head and he twisted, gun going over the hood of the car as he returned fire, maiming a few Saviors. He ducked, breathing hard as the sound of the bullets made his hearing aids go wild. It was searing pain in his ears, right through his brain, but he couldn’t take them off.

If Ethan took off his hearing aids, he knew he’d be dead.

He forced himself to aim the gun again, shooting at those that tried to run, and then Ethan’s heart threw itself into his throat when he saw Jason beside Simon.

“ _Fuck,_ ” said Ethan, as all the colour vanished from his face and he hid away from view. He could hear them shouting, Jason and Simon, but with the gunfire and the shouts from everyone else, he couldn’t tell what they were saying. His heart was beating its way up into his throat.

Sneaking behind the car and going further into Hilltop, Ethan faintly realised he’d lost his walking stick. Maybe he’d left it behind when he first started shooting. He wasn’t sure, just as he wasn’t sure when he’d lost Carl.

But then Ethan got an idea. Maybe he could kill Jason – it was a perfect opportunity.

The hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stood up, and then he turned around squeezed the trigger at the person who had come up to him in the darkness and they fell. He didn’t see a piece of cloth on the person’s arm and recognised the person to be a Savior. He was glad he shot the right person.

He realised he’d lost count of the Saviors he’d killed in the war. It was barely a second later that he realised he didn’t care.

In the distance, he saw Tara leaning against a car, her back left open. Ethan sighed to himself before he made his way over to her as quickly and silently as he could.

“Bitch!” someone yelled and then an arm went around Ethan’s neck. He wasn’t sure if he recognised the person, but it was definitely a man.

Ethan twisted and turned as jarringly as possible, trying to put all his bodyweight into throwing the man off him. The arm around his neck got tighter and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. All the training he and Jesus had done felt like it had been thrown out of the window.

What the fuck would Jesus do? Ethan elbowed the man in the gut, hitting him with all the strength he could muster. The man’s grip loosened, and then Ethan did what Jesus had done to him so many times – he threw him onto the floor.

The throw caught Ethan off balance, and he went tumbling with the man too. Maybe he’d put too much power into it.  He caught himself on his hands and knees and quickly turned himself around. His hand found his knife and embedded it into the man’s leg. He howled in pain and Ethan twisted it as much as he could before he pulled it out and reached and stabbed the man in the chest.

He wasn’t sure how many times he stabbed the man in the chest, but he could feel all the blood that had splattered onto his face, neck and arms. Chest heaving, Ethan stabbed the man in the head, ragging it out roughly. It left a gaping hole in the man’s head.

“Bitch.” Ethan said, panting as he reached for the gun he’d dropped, hand pressing down on his wound, only for warm blood to seep over his hand. His side was burning and when he glanced down, he saw there was more blood than he thought. He guessed he’d popped some or all the stitches. Ethan hoped to any goddamn god that he wouldn’t bleed out or get an infection in his abdomen; it’d be ridiculous to get killed from his fucking wound.

Ethan looked back around and saw Tara still vulnerable. Risking it, he ran over to her, and their backs were pressed together. “Got your back,” he said, risking to look at her, and she smiled at him despite his blood covered face, turning back and shooting at the Saviors that appeared where Tara had left herself open. But there were dark shadows that even Ethan couldn’t see through. He saw Daryl hiding by one car before he shouted his name. Ethan looked around and then there was an arrow in his fucking shoulder. It knocked him backwards into Tara and his grip on the gun loosened. To the side, he saw Simon, axe in the air before he ran back to the shadows. “Fuck!” he hissed, but pushed the pain aside as well as he could, turning around and running with Tara, fully ignoring the arrow embedded in him.

Maggie had given the signal.

The Hilltop became surrounded by darkness.

Someone Ethan recognised was putting pressure on his wound, before they were taking out the arrow and fixing him up from their spot inside Barrington. “Feel like I’m in one of the World Wars,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he was hastily patched up.

Ethan wasn’t sure how long it took for the stitching and the bandaging to happen, but then there was a whistle. Then there were bright lights and gunfire. Ethan ignored the doctor and picked up the semi-automatic and looked out of the window, aiming and firing at the Saviors. He got a few but didn’t waste the bullets by firing madly. He wasn’t dumb.

He stopped when he saw the cars retreating. It was then that he allowed the medic to fuss over him angrily.

His body was so fucked.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, there were many walkers at the gates of the Hilltop. Maggie was already planning things. Ethan liked how her mind worked; processing, planning, predicting. She was a good leader.

“Yeh shouldn’ be out here,” said Daryl, looking at Ethan on the hood of a car. “Yer gonna fuck yerself up beyond repair.”

Ethan shrugged a shoulder, the good one. “Side’s healing, the shoulder’s a scratch, really. Only needed a stitch or two. I’m fine. Really. How’re you and Paul?”

From the look on Daryl’s face, he knew what Ethan was playing at, but he still went along with it. “Good, I think. We ain’ talked in a while. Too busy.”

Ethan watched as some of the Saviors were walked around for exercise that Alden had asked for from Maggie. Maybe Maggie was getting used to Alden and his calm diplomacy.

He watched as Alden went with Kal to bury the Saviors that had been killed by their own. Because he knew Alden and because Alden was always a cheeky bastard, he waved and winked at Ethan as he passed. Ethan reacted like he had so many times before – raising his middle finger at him with a grin on his face.

“Somethin’ happen ‘tween yeh before?” Daryl asked, taking Ethan by surprise. He sat on the hood of the car, just beside Ethan.

“Everyone keeps asking that.” Ethan said, trying not to sound as hurt as he felt. “It’s like no-one expected me to have a friend before I ended up here.”

Daryl caught on to the hurt that was in Ethan. “Yeh never talked ‘bout ‘im before s’all,” he said. “People like ter talk. S’not yer fault.”

“Maybe but I can’t stop them from talking. It’s just … he’s my best friend. He was before, and I guess he still is in some way. And besides, no-one ever asks you about that kind of stuff. I don’t ask about what happened to you before Aaron brought you back,”

Daryl was quick to cut Ethan off. “But yeh asked others. Glenn, Maggie, Carl, Sasha, hell, yeh even talked to Abraham a few times an’ asked ‘bout that shit. Yeh don’ ask me cos yeh _know_. An’ yeh know we’ve gone through the same shi’ with family.” He put his hand on Ethan’s good shoulder. “An’ I’m sorry I never asked. Yeh keep shit closed tigh’ aroun’ yeh an’ yeh’ve every righ’ to. Bu’ we should’a asked yeh. Might’a made things easier now.”

It was a little funny to Ethan that things could’ve been made easier for the current state of affairs he was dealing with. “You say that as if you don’t keep yourself secluded. You know me and Paul aren’t gonna judge you. We’ve had enough of that ourselves.”

Daryl gave Ethan a look that the boy couldn’t quite read. “Hope yeh talked to Carl ‘bout tha’ guy. He migh’ worry there’s competition.”

“I did. I’m not that dumb. Unlike some people,” he said with a pointed look at Daryl. “I get we’re in the middle of a fucking war, but … if I can fucking talk to Carl, then I know you can talk to Paul. He’s a distant guy, and I know you can be too, but he’s close to you. And I think he might love you.” Ethan whispered the last part, smiling a little at Daryl. “But seriously. I’ve talked to you both, and you’re both acting weird whenever I mention the other.”

“I ain’ sayin’ I can talk to ‘im today, but I’ll see,” Daryl said, looking like he was trying to ignore the shit eating grin spreading on Ethan’s face. “An’ yeh shouldn’ be on yer feet,” he added when Ethan got off the car.

Ethan frowned at him. “How else am I gonna get around, fucking crawl?” he asked, but Daryl just shook his head, getting off the car himself.

“Gerron,” he said gruffly, turning his back on Ethan a little.

“Oh my god,” Ethan said, sudden joy filling him as he hopped onto Daryl’s back. “Can you give me lifts like these all the time?” he asked.

“Cheeky fucker,” Daryl said, but it still made Ethan laugh.

Ethan rested his chin on Daryl’s shoulder. “I think Dwight shot me on purpose,” he said after a moment of silence. “Maybe. I mean, he knew we’d be here, and I still don’t get how he ended up with the Saviors, but he stopped Simon from axing me in the face. So I guess he did it on purpose.”

The tension was sudden through Daryl’s back. Ethan had probably said the wrong thing.

“He still hurt yeh. Yer – yer my son, an’ he hurt yeh. I don’ give a fuck what his intentions were, he hurt yeh.”

Ethan tightened his hold on Daryl just that little bit more as he hid his face in his neck, ignoring the way the man’s sweaty hair tickled at his face. “Love you.” Ethan said quietly, unsure of if Daryl had even heard him. He could count on one hand the amount of times Daryl had called him son.

“Love yeh too, kid,” said Daryl, and Ethan didn’t want to leave the man ever again.

Daryl came to a stop and set him down, then turned and looked at him. “Yeh’ve got me and Paul – ain’ much but y’know we ain’ gonna leave yeh on yer own.”

It was pretty obvious what Daryl was hinting at. “Wish he’d told me before he fucked off. Kinda hurts.” Ethan said, and then he had to look away as the tears brimmed at his eyes. “Could’a asked me to go with him. Asshole doesn’t know how to survive out there, let alone when he’s by himself. Or really upset and in a load of grief. I’m allowed to be mad at Aaron, right?”

“Yer allowed to deck him when he comes back,” Daryl said, and his tone seemed deadly serious. It elicited a laugh from Ethan, who wiped at his face, looking down as he tried to get himself together.

God, Ethan hated crying.

To his surprise, Daryl pulled him into a rough hug. It was a little awkward, but Ethan wrapped his arms around Daryl tightly, not wanting to let go and lose another father figure. He’d quickly whittled down through them. In the back of his mind, a quiet voice told him it was really his fault he’d lost the most important men in his life, and that it’d be his fault when he lost the rest. Ethan tried to listen for Daryl’s heartbeat, but found he was too deaf for it.

He wished he could hear Daryl’s heart beat because he was afraid this war had given it a numbered amount.


	25. Night's Blood

It was night, but Ethan found that he couldn’t sleep. He’d barely slept the last few days, getting quick little naps whenever there was a pause of calm. But with the rising heat and the tension from their war, it had Ethan up at night. This night was particularly warm. There was a thin film of sweat on Ethan’s body, all consistent and annoying.

“We keeping the door open?” he asked Jesus once he entered his trailer again, his usual getup abandoned in lieu of thinner, breezier clothing. “Because I have a bad feeling.”

Daryl and Jesus shared a look. It looked concerned and kind of parental, and was something Ethan needed to try and get used to. “Whenever you get bad feelings, shit goes down,” Jesus said, a not-quite smile on his face when he looked back at Ethan. “So we’re keeping this damn door shut.” As if to prove a point, he locked it. Ethan muttered a quiet thanks, feeling a little bit at ease now that the door was locked.

Although it wasn’t his place, he wanted to know whether or not they’d had their conversation because Ethan knew they needed to talk. He wasn’t going to force them to talk. He was giving his ears a rest, taking out the BTEs and left them on the table. It also meant that they’d not speak to him for the rest of the night.

Even though he couldn’t hear them properly, their muffled, quietened voices still made their way to Ethan’s broken ears. The sofa wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either, mostly tolerable. He’d slept on it multiple times during his stay at the Hilltop, and he figured it wouldn’t be the last. It was familiar enough that he could nap fitfully, drifting in and out of sleep. Ethan hadn’t seen his reflection in a long time, he realised as he drowsily came to briefly. He hadn’t even seen what he looked like when he first came back to the Hilltop. Ethan didn’t really want to know what he looked like. He didn’t want to see what everyone else had to see when they looked at him. It was bad enough feeling the grooves on his skin with his fingers.

But Jesus or Daryl eventually blew out the last candle. He waited a while before he turned onto his side, wincing as it hurt at the shift of weight. Ethan still couldn’t sleep. He’d tried to, but the few minutes he got weren’t enough, but would have to be it until the war was over. Over on the bed, Jesus and Daryl were laid together, bodies lax. He’d faintly heard the two snoring before, so knew they were asleep. Ethan wondered how. Knowing it was useless to try for rest, he got up and stretched as best he could, the soreness in his limbs returning, the aching pull on his side ever present.

He had been hoping to get some water, but even in his deaf state, he heard the screaming. Hearing aids back in place, gun, knife and bow ready, he raced out of the door as best as he could, quickly followed by Jesus and Daryl. He guessed they had been woken from the screaming.  Ethan raced out into the darkness of Hilltop and realised something very bad. There were fucking walkers in Barrington. How the hell had their people let walkers in?

With a sick sense of nostalgia, he ducked under a walker arm and turned and stabbed upwards, ending the short walker life. He noted how it was a fresh walker, someone he’d seen around Hilltop before.

The three of them moved as well as they could, stabbing the walkers that had once been their allies as they made their quick way towards Hilltop. It was easy fighting beside Jesus and Daryl, like the three had been made to work together so well. He figured they had to have some form of chemistry. They got inside the large house and found that the situation had been made so much more worse than what it first appeared.

Ethan stabbed a walker that had been advancing on Daryl and he recognised her as Dana, the medic who had wrapped up his wound earlier.

“Doesn’t make sense,” he said, looking at Daryl as the action eased in Barrington House once the panic had eased. Then it all clicked, and his blood ran cold. “It’s-it’s the Saviors’ weapons. Jason tried it once. Covered his knife in walker guts and stabbed a man. He survived the stabbing, it was non-lethal, non-fatal, whatever. But the walker guts killed him because of the infection.”

The look on Daryl’s face broke Ethan’s heart as he remembered what had happened to Ethan during the attack. “ _Fuck_ ,” Ethan said before he just upped and left, unable to look at Daryl’s sad expression. Unable to believe what his fate had come to.

Jesus followed him out of the front doors. “Ethan,” he said, grabbing Ethan’s arm so that he’d turn around and face him. “You’re gonna be fine.” said Jesus, though Ethan could still see the upset in the man’s eyes, the way his mouth was downturned. Ethan refused to cry, and the tears couldn’t come. He still felt sad and angry at it.

“Fuck you think that for? Just my luck, right? You know I’ll be infected. Dwight shot me, who knows what kinda shit he put on the arrow.” he said, as Maggie came out of the house. He couldn’t tell her he was fucked once more. “I’m gonna go check on Al – oh for _fuck’s sake!_ ”

Before Jesus could react, Ethan had shot down to where Alden was, fighting with a walker. He threw the knife before he could think, and it sunk into the decaying skull. Alden pulled out the knife and dropped the body, looking at Ethan.

“You’re welcome, now let’s kick some dead ass.” Ethan said, and they moved on towards the next walker as the others started on the other walkers in their community.

It felt like old times; they’d done this before. More than once it had been the two of them, heavily outnumbered by the dead, with just knives and crowbars to ensure their lives would be safe after. So this was easier than how things had been before.

“Some of them ran, and there’s others over by the gate –”

“Trying to shut it? Yeah, hard to miss it,” Ethan said, risking a glance to where the Saviors were trying to keep the dead out.

Then Ethan ducked as Alden turned around and stabbed the walker that had been approaching Ethan and then Ethan threw his knife at the walker that had tried to sneak up behind Alden. Alden caught the knife and pulled it out of the walker’s head before it collapsed and flipped the knife over the back of his hand. Ethan grabbed it by the handle and shook his head at him.

“Dickhead,” Ethan muttered, smiling a little, despite what had just been realised.

“Fuck face,” Alden said quickly, grinning before he rushed forwards and stabbed the walker trying to kill Siddiq.

“Hands up, now!”

Alden responded instantly, dropping the knife and put his hands up. Ethan came and stood beside him, ignoring the way Jesus was looking at him. “Hey, we’re trying to help. A kid came and opened up the pen. We had people turn.” Alden said, pointing his hand towards the rest of the Saviors who had ran off, trying to shut the gate.

“Maggie, some ran, and others are trying to stop the walkers from getting in,” Ethan said, looking over at Alden. “He’s trying to help.”

“Dianne,” Maggie said, and she and some others moved to help the Saviors to shut the gate. “What are you doing out here?” Maggie asked of Siddiq who had only wanted to check on the prisoners. “Where are the others?” she said to Alden as Ethan picked up the knife.

Alden shrugged, and then looked over at Ethan. “They didn’t say where they were going, they just ran.”

“And you didn’t?”

“We saw what we mean to Negan and Simon. Which might be a dumb thing to say, it doesn’t make us worth much to your people either, but … those of us that stayed, stayed. We had plenty of chances to run.” Alden glanced at Ethan. “’Sides, I’m not leaving my friend again.”

Ethan held back a smile as he looked back to Maggie and Jesus. “I can vouch for him.” Ethan said, nodding his head at Maggie.

Maggie shared a look with him, asking silently if he was sure he was doing something good. He nodded once more, and she lowered her gun. “Help us kill the rest of the walkers and pile the dead to wait to be buried.” Maggie instructed of them.

They got to what they did best – killing walkers.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan reckoned they were friends again. It was nice to have another friend, one who wasn’t his boyfriend, or the only girl their age, or one of the adults around Hilltop. He’d only admit it to maybe himself that it was nice to have Alden around. Because he had missed him, even though he had done his damnedest to try and forget him.

They found that Gregory had ran during the prisoners’ escape, and none of them had been particularly surprised. He hadn’t liked how he’d been treated, so their group could only assume he’d gone back to the Sanctuary. Because that had worked out so well the last time.

“They infected their weapons,” said Alden as he and Ethan dragged another walker to a pile. The sun was rising in the sky and was merciless on them. “And I know for a fact you got hit.”

Ethan looked up at him, eyes scared as they dropped the walker on the pile. “I know. Sorry?”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You’re my friend, Ethan. I don’t wanna have you back just to lose you again,”

“I … what am I supposed to say? Bad timing.” Ethan shrugged, and wouldn’t look at Alden. He didn’t want to see the look on his face. “We’ve got the worst luck in the world,”

Ethan made to move past him and get another walker, but Alden stepped in front of him. He put his hands on Ethan’s shoulders and Ethan looked up at him. There was a small height difference between them. “Man, don’t do this. You’re gonna leave me with these assholes? I mean, they already hate me, and you’re the only thing that’s keepin’ me alive. So you’re not allowed to die.”

It made Ethan laugh. “I’ll get Enid to vouch for you. Carl too.” Alden shook his head and then hugged Ethan, taking him by surprise.

“You might be a dude, but I ain’ changin’ how we hug.”

“I think that’s kinda gay,” Ethan said, not sure what else to say as he hugged Alden back, trying to keep his breathing stable. Alden laughed and said something, but Ethan couldn’t catch it. “I’m deaf, what did you say?” he asked, pulling away to look at Alden. His face had gotten a little red and there were tears in his eyes.

“I might sometimes prefer a guy over a gal, but you ain’ my type. Too dumb.”

Ethan thumped him in the shoulder. “I’m too dumb? You’re a fuckin’ dumb _ass_.” He still managed to smile, and it made Alden smile too.

“You look OK, considering you’re supposed to be dying and your face is kinda messed up. How long does it take for the infection to kick in?” Alden asked as they made their way to get some food and drinks.

“How the fuck should I know?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t think it’s kicked in yet.” Alden pressed a hand to Ethan’s forehead and Ethan knocked his hand away. “Sun’s hot as fuck, I don’t think you’re gonna get an accurate read on the fever.”

Alden shrugged as he took the food Jesus had given him. Ethan glanced up at Jesus, who had a sad look on his face when he looked at him. “You can stop that too.” He pointed his finger at Jesus, then offered a smile. “If I’m supposed to be dying, tell Aaron he’s a dumbass for me.”

Looking upset, Jesus nodded his head and gave him a salute. The two went and sat in the shade of the walls. They sat in relative silence, the words unable to form. Just the company was enough until it wouldn’t be.

“If this is one of your last days, why are you spending it with me?” Alden looked over at Ethan, an eyebrow raised as he leaned his head against the wall.

“Because you’re my friend and I can’t face seeing the others. I-I-I can’t. If I see them upset because of me – over me – then I don’t know what I’ll do about it.” Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t want to bother them. I get they’re … _family_ , but I can’t bother them with me dying.”

Alden laughed. “‘I can’t bother them with me dying,’ is one of the stupider things you’ve ever said. E, they’re gonna care about you because they’ve grown to love you. They love you as you, who you really are. And I love you for who I knew you as, _and_ who I know you as now.” Alden was giving Ethan that wise look he got from adults. It looked weird on Alden’s face. “And, you’ve got that boyfriend of yours. He’ll miss you and be mad if you don’t spend some of your last day or days with him.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Ethan said, not quite sure what else to say that could explain what was going on in his head and what he was feeling. “Since the war started, we haven’t really talked, haven’t had the chance. Shit happened back in Alexandria and I said some things to Negan that he heard. I think Siddiq will wanna keep an eye on me. See how long it takes.”

“Don’t – I hate the way you’re talkin’. It’s like you don’t give a shit,” Alden said as they got up. “You gotta care. There’s people who care about you here,”

Ethan looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Then where’s Aaron? He’s … he left and didn’t say bye to me.” He pressed his lips together and tried to keep himself together. “And I’m tired, Alden.”

“So what, you’re gonna give up? You’re gonna lay down and die?”

“What else choice do I have? I-I-I mean, you know it’s only a matter of time, right?” He shrugged a shoulder, feeling useless and sad. “I’m gonna go see Siddiq, see what’s going off.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan had seen Jesus burying the dead with Jerry that morning but had gone and hidden away in the medical trailer with Siddiq.

“You’re still looking fine,” Siddiq said as he put his hand to Ethan’s forehead. “You’ve not got a fever so far. Have you been experiencing any pains? Some people say their bones feel like glass when they’re infected.” Ethan shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Well, it’s been at least a day and so far, the fever hasn’t set in. If it hasn’t set in within the next few hours, then I think it’s safe to say you dodged a bullet.”

That was hard to believe. “Are you sure?” Ethan asked, frown making its way onto his face. “I mean, I know I feel fine, but it happens eventually, right?”

Siddiq shrugged a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve seen rare cases – and I think your group has too – where someone’s been exposed to walker blood and it had no effect. There’s also the possibility that the person who shot you didn’t infect the arrow.”

Ethan pulled his legs up onto the bed he was on, resting his chin on his knees. “Maybe. I thought maybe the guy who shot me did it so Simon wouldn’t put an axe in my face. It’s possible the bolt wasn’t infected.” He looked around at the others in the infirmary, resting. “How’s everyone else holding up?”

“Alright, but out of action. Most of the doctors died during the-the raid last night, or whatever you’d call it. I think it’s just me now. Maybe a couple others.”

“Good job Carl found you when he did,” said Ethan, watching as Siddiq moved around and helped the others in the medical trailer. “I think you’re doing a good job, considering that this stuff’s been thrown at you.”

Siddiq made a little laugh as he got some more bandages for a patient. “I think that the life now throws anything and everything at you.” He looked over at Ethan. “You especially.”

“It’s because I’m super special.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan felt the sun burn on his skin as he stepped out of the trailer. His BTEs had new batteries in, and Siddiq said that it could help until they got newer ones. Just get more batteries. Ethan felt like his life revolved around batteries. It made him self-conscious about them, how they were old and chunky. There’d been new models being made before the apocalypse, but they’d been too expensive for their family to buy. The ones he had had been pretty expensive anyway, and Ethan’s mother had to pay for them from her funds.

“Siddiq says I’m fine since it’s been over a day and there’s no fever.” Ethan said as he approached Daryl who was sharpening his bolts in the bed of a truck. There was a different pile on the side, and it took Ethan a moment to realise Daryl had been making Ethan some arrows too. It made his heart swell a little.

“Yer one tough sonovabitch.” Daryl said, offering a short smile as he glanced up at Ethan, pausing his work.

Ethan wasn’t excited to see the reaction to what he was about to say. “Daryl … I think it means Dwight shot me with a clean arrow, like I thought.”

Daryl shook his head. “Think it means yeh got lucky. Could be anythin’. It’s not like a bite, sometimes nothin’ happens,” he said dismissively.

“Daryl –” Ethan started but was quickly cut off.

“Look, if Dwight knew, he could’a warned us, could’a sent us a message.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “True, but he might not have been able to like before. I mean, maybe it isn’t safe for him to send a message now?” he suggested. “Look, I’m not defending him or anything, I’m just saying he knew what was gonna happen and stopped Simon from killing me.”

God, and no doubt Simon would go to Negan and tell him that only now was Ethan supposed to die.

“He let a whole day go by with everyone around us dyin’. Yeh could’a been dyin’.” Daryl said sternly. “We ain’ talkin’ more on this,”

“Fine. But those who got injured here were at the battle. Coincidence? Not really. I know you hate him, and I hate him too. But … we might have to deal with him and maybe trust him to a certain extent.” Ethan shrugged. “I mean, I trust him about as far as I can throw him. He still fucked us up in the Sanctuary. Pretty sure he’s not that lenient on trans people, or all that accepting.”

That seemed to make Daryl even angrier, stewing silently. “He ain’ ever comin’ near yeh ever again. I can promise yeh that.” He shifted a little so that Ethan could sit beside him. Daryl put his arm around Ethan. “Yer gonna see yer dad. He’s gonna come back to yeh and Gracie. Ain’ no way he’s gonna die out there. Loves yeh too much.”

Ethan scoffed a little. “Not enough to stay though.”

The two sat in silence for a while before Ethan said he wanted to check up on Gracie. He appreciated the comfort Daryl would give him and felt glad that the man had initiated it; it was something Ethan wasn’t too good at doing. It reminded him of Carl for some reason, and he was aware of how he hadn’t seen him much since the night of the attack, before they realised Ethan could’ve been exposed to the walker blood. He hadn’t really seen Enid much either, and he hoped the two were taking care of themselves, or each other.

Ethan made his way back inside and met Maggie in her office. She was holding Gracie who didn’t seem too happy. “Need help?” he asked, offering her a sort of smile as he got nearer. Maggie nodded her head and passed Gracie over to Ethan who held her carefully, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as he bounced her around. She calmed down and babbled, small hand going and holding Ethan’s ear.

“You’re good with her,” Maggie said, a fond smile on her face.

He offered her a smile. “Eli was a handful for Omma. I helped her a lot, and I remember some of the stuff we did for him. Figured out a lot of ways to keep a baby calm when there’s something dangerous nearby.”

Maggie came over and stroked the back of Gracie’s head. “She’d be proud of you. I know you hear it a lot from people who were strangers to her. But she would.”

“You say that, but she’d be disappointed that I haven’t found Eli.”

“It’s difficult to track someone, especially when you get side tracked. You’ve been through a lot – physically, mentally and emotionally. The fact you’re still determined to find him would be enough to make her proud.”

Ethan wasn’t sure how to reply or if he had the ability to. He instead lowered his head a little, resting it against Gracie’s gently, and kissed her head. He’d gotten too attached to the baby. Ethan already cared for her so much, when he hadn’t even found his brother.

“I’m forgetting his voice,” he admitted quietly, eyes on the ground. “Even though I can hear some phrases he’d say a lot, I know I’m going to forget his voice completely. All I have is two tattered photos and it sucks. Without them, I think I’d forget what he looks like. Can barely remember what Omma looked like now. Never had a photo of her.” Ethan looked up at her. “But I still remember what she looked like as Negan killed her. Not something you just forget.”

Maggie looked hurt. The lines on her face had gotten more obvious and the way her eyes lost their light made it worse. “No it isn’t. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened to your mom … Glenn and Abraham. But we can do them proud.”

He could remember the last time he’d hugged Maggie. They’d been sitting at the graves, Enid across from them. Maggie had told them about her siblings. But this time, he embraced her first. Ethan put his arm around her, careful of the baby bump that had been getting bigger and bigger, showing signs of life. He hoped the baby would make it.

Maggie hugged him back. Both of them were careful of the babies between them. It was kind of nice.

 

* * *

 

 

“The relay cars are in position,” Rosita told them as she sat down on the arm of a chair. Ethan was sat on top of Maggie’s desk, holding a drowsy Gracie. He couldn’t find it in himself to put her down. “If the Saviors are coming back, we’ll have ten, maybe fifteen minutes at that.”

“And our ammo?” Maggie asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Ethan looked at Dianne, who had gone over their ammo earlier. “About what we thought,” she said as Daryl entered the room. He nodded to Ethan as he shut the door behind himself. “Not enough to fend off another attack of that size.”

“Well, maybe we don’t gotta worry ‘bout that no more. At least for now. Maybe goin’ hand-to-hand’s their only option,” Daryl said, waving his knife that had dried blood on the end.

“You think they’re low on ammo?” Ethan asked, adjusting Gracie in his arms. She grabbed his ear and held it as tightly as her baby strength would let her. It seemed she had a thing for holding ears. She always grabbed at his earlobe, fingers just missing the hearing aid in place.

“Well, they must’a gone through a whole bunch of ‘em getting’ through all the walkers at the Sanctuary.”

Dianne stood up from where she’d been leaning on her chair as she said, “And there’s not a lot of places to find more.”

“ _Mierda_!” Rosita hissed, and Ethan looked at her. He reckoned she just swore in Spanish. “They have our bullet maker. They _can_ make more,” she said to Maggie. Ethan had, at some point, been filled in on Eugene being a bullet maker and why he wasn’t around. Not that he cared much about the guy who was all business up front, party in the back when it came to hairstyles.

“You think the Saviors have what they’d need to make ‘em?” Maggie asked.

“If they don’t, I’d know where they’d find it.”

Maggie looked at Rosita and Daryl. “Will you two head out to this place, where you can find these things?” she said.

The two nodded and soon took their leave. Gracie made a whining noise when Daryl and Rosita left, and Ethan kissed the side of her head gently, rocking her gently. “Here, let me take her?” Maggie asked. “You should get out.”

After handing Gracie over, he gave her and Dianne a meek smile. “I’ll talk to you later?” Maggie nodded and shooed him out of the room, managing to make a small smile appear on his face.

Enid was outside when he came out. She came up and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t scare me like that ever again,” she said before she pulled away from him. “Carl’s gone out scavenging. Told me to tell you.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched in a brief smile that barely meant anything. “Course he did. He tell you anything else?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t want me to tell you,”

“That’s OK. If he didn’t want to me to know, I’m fine with it,”

That made Enid look a little amused and confused. “Whenever couples keep secrets, that usually brews trouble.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and brushed some hair behind her ear. “I trust Carl. We might have our disagreements, but that’s fine. If he trusts you with something, that’s good. I think he needs you as much as he needs me. Can’t always talk to the adults or your boyfriend, and a person with a different view might help more.”

Enid was looking at him in that way of hers. She hadn’t given him this particular look in a while, and it was kind of unnerving. “He’s lucky he has you. You’re something else, Ethan.” She looked around and caught sight of Rick talking with Alden. “I reckon you should go save that friend of yours.” Ethan noticed how there was a new look on her face that he hadn’t seen before. It amused him a little, because he knew what kind of look that was.

“Yeah, guy doesn’t know what he’s up against. I’ll see you later?” Enid nodded and he kissed her cheek before he left her. She’d probably go and see Maggie.

As Rick spoke with Alden, Ethan noticed how shorter Alden looked on the lower side of the hill. It looked like Rick had the advantage on him being higher up, not coming to stand beside Alden. Ethan made to move towards them. He heard Alden ask Rick to do him a favour. He heard Alden say Rick could show them the way.

“Fuck was that about?” he asked as he made his way to Alden as Rick walked away.

“He wanted to know where the others would have gone. There’s a dive bar nearby, so my best guess is there,” he said, moving around Ethan as he got back to work cleaning the pen. “I asked him not to kill any more than necessary. Rick’s a smart guy.”

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “Rick’s not been himself. It’s weird.”

Alden looked over at him, pausing the scrubbing. “You think somethin’s happened to him?”

“Maybe? Or there was a close call and it’s scared him. Might wanna just finish this shit.” He grabbed the sponge from Alden and started helping cleaning the post. “Wish he’d go after Aaron though,” he said, trying to change the subject.

“Aaron. That’s the guy that returned with the baby, right?” Alden asked. Ethan nodded, pressing his lips together as he wet the sponge again. “He adopt your or somethin’?”

“Him and his boyfriend. Eric died fighting the Saviors. Dunno which post.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure Eric was a good guy,” Alden said. He put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and he stopped and looked at him. “Hey. I missed you. And I’m sorry you lost people who you loved. You’ve already lost enough.”

“You’ve lost enough too.” Ethan said. “Fucking sucks, right?”


	26. Bitter Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: some misgendering by some Saviors.

Ethan was sat beside Alden and Dianne as Morgan and Rick returned. Night had fallen and they were sat with their own fires. He glanced over to see Alden’s reaction, as none of the Saviors had returned with them. He saw Alden glare at Rick as he walked past up into Barrington. He looked hurt and angry and disappointed. It broke Ethan’s heart a little. He looked at Rick’s retreating figure, wanting to ask him what had happened out there; Rick had been covered in blood.

“He killed them, didn’t he?” Alden asked. Ethan nodded once, and then felt Alden slump against his side. Ethan put his arm around his friend and rested his head on top of his. Though they might not have been Ethan’s friends, some had been Alden’s. “I don’t think I wanna know why.”

“I don’t think you do either,” he said. Ethan guessed he knew why – why bother risking all those Saviors who ran running again, or worse, killing some of their own? Rick wouldn’t take the risk. And he hadn’t. He wanted the Saviors dead. “Where’re you gonna sleep for the night?”

Alden shrugged a shoulder, looking like he was trying to put himself back together again. God, he looked so tired. “Out here, maybe. No-one will share a trailer with a Savior, and I doubt Maggie would want us inside.” He looked at Ethan and gave him a sad smile, but Ethan could see how close Alden was to crying. “You should go and get some sleep, you look like shit.”

“Fuck you,” Ethan said, and the two heard Dianne chuckle to herself. She had been alright with Alden and had been fine with him asking if they could share her fire. “Seriously, where’re you gonna sleep?”

“I’ll figure that out later,” Alden said with a shrug as he tried to keep himself together. “I’m gonna get some water, you wanna come with?”

That brought back memories. Whenever one of them needed an escape route away, Alden would go and get water and invite Ethan to come away with him. It would buy them enough time to calm down or reassure each other that it’d be OK.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ethan said, patting Alden on the back before they got up. Alden gave Ethan a hand up and the two went inside of Barrington, where their supplies were. Ethan led Alden into one of the rooms that was unoccupied for the moment. He lit one of the candles and shut the door just as the tears started down Alden’s face.

“Shouldn’ cry over ‘em. There were pricks like Jared with ‘em,” he said thickly, wiping at his face, but he didn’t look like he could stop them.

Ethan took him by the arm gently and led him onto the bed. The two sat together and Alden took Ethan’s hand, his own shaking. “They were your friends, man, ain’t nothing wrong with crying over people you knew.”

“Yeah, but most of them were assholes.”

“I’m an asshole but you looked ready to cry over me,” he said, trying to joke, but it didn’t work. “Rick’s an asshole too. He killed those people, we both know it, and that’s something he’s going to have to live with. And I think the fact he doesn’t know how many people he’s killed might weigh on his consciousness,”

Alden shook his head and looked away for a moment, sniffling, then looked back at Ethan. “We both know that’s to keep his family safe. He’d kill everyone if it meant keeping them safe.” Ethan couldn’t disagree with him there. “I just hope that you’re part of that family. I think I might’ve put a wrench in the works there.” Alden said, and Ethan noted how he was looking at their hands. “Sorry about that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ethan said dismissively, smiling a little, trying not to seem bothered by the idea that Rick would kill him if it was needed. He squeezed Alden’s hand reassuringly. “Things change, nothing’s exactly permanent in this life, right?”

“Right,” Alden nodded, then wiped at his face again. “I look like I’ve been crying?”

“A fuckin’ river, yeah.” Ethan said, and Alden laughed and got up. He gave Ethan a hand up.

“I think it’s time you should go on to bed, kid,”

Ethan hit him in the back of the head, though there was no power behind it once he’d gotten to his feet. “I’m not that much younger than you,” he said, sticking his tongue out at him.

“You look like a twelve-year-old,” Alden replied, grinning. The two left the room, got some water and then they got back out of the warm building and Ethan walked off, middle finger in the air. He did indeed want to go to bed. But his bed was a sofa in Jesus’ trailer.

Once he was inside the trailer, he saw Jesus sitting there. “You heading to bed?” he asked once Ethan had let himself drop onto the sofa and curse when his still fresh wound protested. Ethan grunted confirmation. “Am I alright to keep the light on? Doing a little bit of reading.”

“Sure. I’ve fallen asleep with weirder things going on around me.”

Jesus laughed. “I’m sure I’ll find out what kinds of weird things you’ve fallen asleep around.”

Ethan took out his hearing aids and turned onto his right side, the one that didn’t have the wound, and dozed off.

Although he’d managed to get a few hours’ worth of sleep, once he’d woken up, he found he couldn’t go back to sleep. So he got up, freshened up as best he could and then left the trailer, putting his hearing aids on as the bowstring left comfort where it laid across Ethan’s chest. He’d been pleased to see Daryl and Jesus were sharing the bed. Their relationship seemed to have become stable, more so than Ethan’s with Carl.

At some time, Gregory had returned, and he was currently in the pen that had been for the Saviors. The Saviors were now relatively trusted. Even at the great distance, he could feel Gregory’s eyes on him. Ethan never liked the way Gregory looked at him. It was unnerving and made him want to clean his skin with bleach.

He noticed that Alden was up, much like the rest of the ex-Saviors and Maggie. Ethan guessed they were no longer Saviors. He’d have to try and get used to that fact. He went and sat on a bench nearby, just out of earshot of what Alden was talking about to them, and Ethan saw the nod of confirmation from Maggie before she made her way back up to Barrington, hands on her belly.

“Hey man, you’re up early,” Alden said as he got closer. Ethan noticed his laces were undone.

“So are you. What’re you doing?”

“We’re gonna draw the walkers away from the walls,”

Ethan nodded his head. “Cool, let’s go, just gimme a second.”

“Sure you wanna come?” Alden asked as Ethan tied up his shoes. “Saviors aren’t too fond of you,”

“Fuck off, I can’t stand being in here any longer,” he said. Ethan took Alden’s outstretched hand and stood up. “’Sides, if you’re sticking around, I better get used to your ugly face.”

Alden laughed and shook his head. “Fuckin’ asshole.” he said, but he was still smiling. “C’mon dickhead, let’s get rid of those walkers.”

The two walked over to the rest of the Saviors that were to help get rid of the walkers. The sun still hadn’t risen much yet. The two shared a look before they looked up to Eduardo and Kal, who made sure the gates were clear before they opened them.

Their group walked out, and Ethan could hear the snarls. He’d not quite forgotten, but it wasn’t as loud as it used to be, and that put Ethan on edge. The stench was as bad as Ethan could remember. But they kept on walking, flashing their lights at the walkers and calling profanities at them. It managed to draw them away. Now they had a pack of walkers on their tail.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was particularly brutal at the early hours of the morning. But their group kept on walking, the snarls behind them. It made the hairs on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up.

“Up there, we can make the walkers think we’re followin’ the road and they’ll keep goin’,” said Alden, breaking the silence. The others murmured their agreement.

A few minutes later, their group had managed to hide in the trees and bushes, watching the walkers roam past. The wind brought the walkers’ smell to them, so Ethan counted them lucky the wind wasn’t going in the opposite direction.

It took a while for the walkers to go past them completely. It took even longer for them to be out of sight. Ethan had told them not to risk it, and he’d been surprised that they’d actually listened. He should’ve known he’d get questions as they made their way back.

“You’re Jason’s girl, right?” a man asked. He was an older type and was balding.

Ethan felt weird. It felt like an emptiness had taken place where his heart and lungs had been. Ethan had forgotten people sometimes think he was a girl. “Not Jason’s anything. I’m a boy.”

The man laughed. “Yeah, and I’m the President.” he said, and Ethan had to hold himself together. He could feel the dysphoria kicking in and he had to try so hard to pretend he was fine. He’d one so long without anyone misgendering him, and now with a flat – if heavily scarred – chest, he had been feeling better about himself. But this brought it all back to the beginning. Just having this man laugh at him had Ethan’s skin crawling in the familiar dysphoric way.

“Hey!” Alden snapped. “This is _Ethan_. You’ve heard the stories. Don’t fuck with _him_.” The look on Alden’s face scared Ethan a little. He’d never seen him that angry and protective.

The man’s amused expression faded. “Sorry, she’s just lookin’ like a girl.”

Before Alden could react, Ethan started speaking. “Yeah, because I was born with a girl’s fucking body, so I’m gonna look like one. Just because I look like something, doesn’t mean I’m actually it. Hell, I’m fucking _deaf_ but if you take my hearing aids away, I look like any other person who can hear without a problem. But I’m still deaf, much like how I’m still a fucking guy.” He kept his gaze with the man, determined to make his point. “So if you ever see me again, let me tell you this. My name is Ethan Dolori, I’m a boy and I just so happen to be deaf. But if I ever hear you call me _she_ or _girl_ , I will shatter your wrists.” He looked at everyone else with them. “That goes for everyone else. You lot might’ve known me by a different name, and if I ever hear that being spoken, stitches won’t fix what I do to the person who says it.”

There was a brief pause before a chorus of, “Yessir.”

Ethan couldn’t help but feel pleased to be called sir. Even if he had just threatened a group of adults who could kill and hurt him. But he felt unstoppable. It put the dysphoria at ease, if only temporarily.

At least he’d managed to stand up for himself.

The walk back to Hilltop was tense. It was hard for it not to be. But they all kept on walking. Whenever Ethan looked over at Alden, he saw that he had something that looked like pride and amusement on his face. It made Ethan smile a little each time he looked at him. It was nice to be back at Hilltop and saw there weren’t any walkers there. They’d done their job well enough.

Kal opened the gates for them once they were close enough. And then Morgan was coming towards them, quick and with a danger to him that frightened Ethan. Ethan moved in front of Alden with his knife held up as the two Saviors beside him dove out of the way of Morgan’s stride towards Alden. But then Morgan changed course and knocked Henry off his feet. Carol was quick to intervene.

“What the fuck?” Alden asked, and the two shared a look of confusion.

“Don’t ask me,” Ethan said, sheathing his knife as they moved into the Hilltop. He walked over and gave the kid, Henry, a hand up. He realised it was the same white kid from the Kingdom who’d been looking at him when he’d been speaking with Ezekiel.

“They were gone … him … they were coming in,” Morgan was saying, and Ethan saw how he was looking slightly manic. He shifted and stood in front of Alden; not quite sure what Morgan was going to do next. But Ethan wasn’t going to let Alden be at risk.

“I asked Maggie if we could draw the walkers away from the wall. We drew them away so we wouldn’t have to worry about them when we rolled out,” Alden explained from his spot behind Ethan.

“He did,” Maggie said, with a slight nod of confirmation.

“Let’s keep getting ready, everyone. First team’s going in twenty,” Rick said, taking control of the situation. Ethan moved away, no longer needing to be Alden’s shield.

“He said ‘when we roll out’. You and your people aren’t coming,” Maggie said to Alden when she had turned to look at him. “You can be here. But you’re not us.”

“As long as we got that straight,” Alden said, mostly to himself as he and Ethan set off walking again.

Someone called Ethan’s name. He looked around and saw Rick looking at him. “You’re coming in the first team,” Rick said. Ethan looked at Alden before he moved and went over to the man. “I’d prefer you to come along in the first team. I’m sure Maggie, Daryl, Jesus and Carl would prefer it if you came with us too.”

Ethan looked back at Alden, who was looking down at some wood, obviously eavesdropping, though Ethan could see the tension in him. “What if I wanted my friend to come along too?” he asked as he looked back at Rick.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Rick said, that unsure look on his face. Ethan kept his gaze on him, stern and determined. “Fine, he can come along too. But only him. I’ll talk to the others, to Maggie, and let her know. But if he fucks up, kills one of ours. It’s on you.”

“Good to know,” Ethan said, and then did finger guns before he made to go back before Rick called him back. “What?”

“You sure you trust him?”

Ethan shrugged. “I trusted him with Eli’s life. I still would. If he betrays me, you wouldn’t have to worry about going after him.”

The look on Rick’s face was hard to read. He looked pleased with the answer but at the same time looked like he hated it. “Just … don’t act so protective of him. He’s still a Savior.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched and he looked back at Alden before he looked back at Rick. “I think you forget that I used to be a Savior too. How’s it any different?” he asked, raising an eyebrow a little. “Because Negan thinks I’m dead? Or that you think you know me?”

“Ethan –”

“I’m gonna say bye to Gracie.” Ethan said and turned and walked on his heel, going straight into Barrington, where Gracie’s cot was. He didn’t need to look behind him to see Alden following him and Carl wasn’t.

He made it to the room Gracie was staying in and felt himself smile when he got closer to her cot. She was awake and babbling away, toy in hand. He said a quiet ‘hello’ to her once she noticed he was there. He rested his arms on the edge of the cot, resting his weight against it.

“Hey,” said Alden. Ethan looked at him through the mirror and offered a small smile. “I heard what you were saying to Rick. I wanted to say thanks for having my back and getting me to come in the first group. Though, I don’t know how the rest of the ex-Saviors think about it.”

“Good job I don’t know them as well as I do you. And thanks. For back on the road, with the ex-Saviors, it’s nice to have someone have my back out there.” Ethan said, shrugging a shoulder. “Wanna say hi and bye to Gracie?”

Alden was quick to stand beside Ethan and coo at Gracie. “She’s goin’ to be good for ya,” he said, rubbing a thumb over the baby’s cheek. “After this. It’ll help you. And I heard from people that Eli’s just missin’. I know that kid almost as well as you do. He’ll have survived even if it seems impossible.”

“Do you remember what his voice sounds like?”

“A little. Certain phrases. I think I can imagine how he’d say your name now, instead of the one from before,” Alden said. He kept his gaze on Gracie as Ethan wiped his face. “And I’m sorry if I use the wrong words. But I prefer you as Ethan. Not as her. And I’m not gonna use that name you used to have. I never liked it anyway.”

Ethan turned and wrapped his arms around Alden, head resting against Alden's chest, surprised and very overwhelmed by what he had said. “Y’know I – I still –”

“Yeah,” Alden said softly, then kissed the top of Ethan’s head. “I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan and Alden left Hilltop with the first group. He was just glad Daryl and Jesus were coming along too. He still caught the betrayed look on Carl’s face when Ethan walked with Alden out of the Hilltop. Both of them were aware of the looks the others were giving them – Rosita’s suspicious one, Carol’s gaze that was near impossible to figure out. The way Rick and Michonne would look at them. It made Ethan wish he and Alden had stayed behind to go with another group.

He saw the way Rick and Michonne were holding hands.

 _“What’s wrong with your boyfriend?”_ Alden asked. His words were slow and spoken with precision. They always were when he spoke in Korean. Ethan knew that Alden’s Korean had to be rusty from the lack of use, but it was nice to know that he’d managed to remember most of the words he’d been taught. Ethan was surprised he hadn't messed up the words.

Ethan looked at him. _“I already talked to him about it, but he’s jealous of you. Don’t make fun of him.”_ he said. _“Probably doesn’t help that you know Korean and we’re speaking it right now.”_

 _“Shame. I like talking to you when no-one else understands.”_ Alden smiled a little and Ethan shook his head.

“You’re a dumbass,” he said in English. “You know that, right?” Ethan could feel himself smiling.

“It’s because I hang around you a lot.” Alden nudged Ethan with his elbow playfully.

Their conversation soon died away as the seriousness of the situation became clearer. Although all the walking made Ethan’s side ache, he kept on going. He’d have to. After the war, he could rest a little. He wondered what everyone would do after the war. Ethan reckoned they’d go back to their respective communities; he wondered if Aaron would be able to live in his and Eric’s old house, if it was still standing.

They were hidden away in the bushes and trees, looking at the roadblock. Carol counted them in, and they moved silently before they took aim and took out all the Saviors making the roadblock. They never saw it coming.

Their group moved onto the road and took out the rest of the walkers that the Saviors had been putting on the road. Alden frowned as he bent down and picked up some paper.

“Fuck’s that?” he asked. Alden handed it over and Ethan looked at it, opening it up. He turned it around and huffed out a laugh before he looked at Rick. “Hey, Rick, come see this,” he said.

Rick came and stood beside him, looking at the map that was in Ethan’s hands. He looked up into the man’s face. “They’re lining up Saviors on the Old Mill Road. That’s where Negan will be.”

“We have to get to Negan before they figure out what happened here,” Carol said.

Rick got his walkie out and spoke into it. “Maggie,”

“I’m here,” she replied almost instantly. She sounded different to Ethan, like she was prepared to kill Negan herself.

“It’s time. It was a trap. So we’re changing the plan,” Rick said, then looked between their group. “Got anything to say about it?”

Ethan scoffed. “Yeah, what if this is a fucking trap too?”

“It ain’t,” Rick and Daryl said in near tandem.

Sighing, Ethan signed ‘oh my god’, then looked to the floor and tried to not be annoyed. It was like they forgot he and Alden used to be with the Saviors. Like they forgot Ethan had known Negan beforehand. He hoped that they’d listen, maybe even take some of his advice.

 _“Don’t do anything stupid,”_ Alden said, then earned a mad glare from Ethan.

“Fuck yourself, dickbrains,” he said, flipping his middle finger up into Alden’s face. He knocked it aside and raised his eyebrows at him. _“Sorry,”_

Their group communicated with Maggie and set up a meeting point and began to make their way there. On either side of him were Alden and Carl, and Ethan didn’t know what to say to them.

“You think he’s gonna be there?” Carl asked, finally breaking the tension. It was a starter for a conversation, but the way he said it sounded forced.

Ethan shrugged a shoulder. “He’s gotta be. Prick likes dramatics. And because I think this is a trap, I think he’s gonna be extra smug about it.”

“Guy loves dramatic speeches and lookin’ like he has the upper hand,” Alden said, offering Carl what Ethan reckoned was a neutral smile. His eyes glanced at the bandaging on Carl’s face before going to the remaining eye. “Don’t think our mutual friend has introduced us. I’m Alden,”

“Carl.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. He looked between them both and saw they didn’t know what to say next. Ethan wasn’t quite sure either. “Carl’s as shit at darts as you,” he said after the silence dragged on. “Might have some fair competition now.” He looked at Carl and half-smiled.

That got Carl talking. “Ethan’s not allowed to play darts with us because he’s too good with the bow,” he said to Alden, who was smirking, knowing just how well Ethan was with darts. “Him and Daryl have to sit at the side lines or have their own game going on.”

Alden nodded his head, smile on his face. “Dumbass has the best aim you’ve ever seen,” he said, then ruffled Ethan’s hair. “Not to mention decent climber when he’s not fuckin’ wounded,” he added, looking at Ethan with amused annoyance.

“I’ve never seen you climb before,” said Carl.

“I climbed over Alexandria’s gate before – the first night I was there. Daryl, Aaron and Morgan saw.” Ethan shrugged, looking back to where Daryl and Rick were ahead of their group. “Not had much chance to go out and climb anything else since.”

 

* * *

 

 

Their groups had met up at the meeting point. It felt a little safer to have bigger numbers around, though Ethan was worried they’d be spotted more easily than if it was the first group only. But now they were walking across some hills and fields, hoping to find and kill the man who had fucked their lives.

Jesus was talking to Morgan, but Ethan was just out of the hearing range to get what they were saying. Their group soon came to a stop at the top of a hill and Ethan could see the biggest herd he’d ever seen down in the forests.

“Jesus,” Rosita said. Ethan could agree with the shock in her voice.

“Holy damn. You ever see one that big?” Jerry asked, sounding almost awed at the sheer size of the herd. It was a pretty big herd.

“No, things are changing. Let’s go,” Rick said, starting to walk away in what Ethan hoped was the right direction.

“How much farther?” Daryl asked, looking over at Ezekiel.

“We grow closer. Yonder, over the ridge,” he said, and their group started moving again.

Alden bumped his shoulder into Ethan’s and the two set off walking again. “Hey, remember when we ran into that stupid fucking herd?”

“And I had to help you climb a tree?” Ethan asked, smiling a little. “Took five hours for that fucking herd to go through and another hour to make sure it was gone and there weren’t any stragglers.”

“You think the gunfire could pull the walkers to us?”

“It’s a possibility.” He shrugged a shoulder as he glanced back at the huge herd. “Wouldn’t take much for that big fucker to come and kill us.”

Alden shook his head, looking faintly amused. “Ever the optimist.”


	27. Galling End

Ethan was in pain. Not because of the wounds on his body, but the way his stomach churned uneasily, how hard his heart pounded in his chest. Seeing that huge herd of walkers had put him on edge and knowing that gunfire would be inevitable. He hoped they wouldn’t bring the dead down on them; it’d suck if they survived the war only to die from that herd. He had only just gotten his friend back; he didn’t want to lose him again so soon.

Their group had been making its way through the trees, and with each step it made Ethan feel nervous. “You know, I wish people would listen to me when I say I’ve got a bad feeling, because let me tell you, I have a _bad_ feeling,” he said. Alden huffed a laugh and shook his head, knowing exactly how accurate Ethan’s bad feelings were. Ethan remembered how often they had managed to get out of trouble because of his bad feelings.

“Your bad feelings always prove useful,” Jesus said as their group came out of the trees into a clearing and then they heard whistling. They all raised their guns and looked around, trying to find the source of the whistling. It pierced Ethan’s ears, louder than anything he’d heard yet, and it sent his BTEs into overdrive, making a high ringing noise.

“Ah, fuck,” he said, grabbing them and pulled them from his ears. He grimaced and put them back in, thankful to find the noise had gone. Carl put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, and he shrugged a reply, rubbing at the back of his ear. Feedback was the worst.

“Well, damn, Rick. Fucking look at that. Pegged again. Pegged so very fucking hard,” Negan said over some speakers. Ethan looked around, trying to find the source or sources. “I ambush your ambush with an even bigger motherfucking ambush.”

“How ‘bout you step out and face us?” Rick yelled, looking around, trying to spot Negan.

“Oh, I am fucking everywhere, Rick. Some more fucking bullhorns, some more walkies. Pick a goddamn fucking direction and fucking _run_. See how you fucking do. Make it fun for all of us. Guess what else I fucking did. I brought you some of your old friends. Remember your old buddy Eugene? Well, he is the motherfucker that made today possible. Same goes for Dwighty boy here. In case you were wondering, he didn’t fuck you on purpose. No he is just a gutless fucking fuck that fucking sucks at life, and now he gets to stand up here and watch you all die and he’s gonna fucking live with that.” Ethan felt Carl’s hand drop from his shoulder and took hold of his hand. “Gabriel, well, he’s gotta go too. We are cleaning house today, Rick. And then, there’s you. It never had to be a fight. You just had to accept how things are. So … here we go. Congratulations, Rick.”

And then he counted down and Saviors appeared at the tops of the hills. “ _Shit_.” Ethan and Alden said together, looking at each other with wide eyes. Ethan couldn’t look away from his friend, unable to believe what was going to happen.

The gunshots went off, but no bullets hit them. The Saviors fell to the floor. Ethan raised an eyebrow at Alden, shocked. “Let’s go,” he said a second before Rick screamed ‘now!’.

Their group made it up the hill, shooting at the Saviors on the ground trying to get back up and fight. “He’s running!” Maggie shouted; voice high. Ethan had lost sight of Carl. He didn’t know where he had last been.

Ethan shot the closest Savior with his bow before he ran and got the arrow and turned and shot the Savior that tried to shoot Rick. He crouched down beside a car and got out another arrow before it was let loose on another Savior. Ethan could feel his heart pounding against his sternum, wondering where the fuck Alden had gone. He looked away for half a second and then his friend had gone and vanished.

Someone collided with Ethan and they went tumbling over each other. The person landed on top of Ethan and Ethan nearly screamed when he saw Jason. Jason’s arm went down on Ethan’s neck, knees going into the crooks of Ethan’s elbows, preventing him from moving. The air was leaving Ethan and Jason was grinning with a manic look in his eyes. It felt like Ethan’s heart was going to give out before Jason could get the chance to choke him to death.

Ethan gasped, trying to escape, but Jesus hadn’t taught him how to get out of something like this, and he was trying not to panic. And then he noticed the knife. He tried to reach up for it, but Jason’s legs were in the fucking way. God, his fingertips were brushing the fucker. If only he was lanky.

“They died because of you,” Jason said vehemently, the pressure on Ethan’s neck getting heavier. Black spots started to appear in Ethan’s vision and his lungs were burning. He needed to breathe, but Jason was quite determined.

Then Ethan’s fingers grasped the hilt of the knife as the edges of his vision started to get darker and pulled it out from where it was on his belt. He flipped it around in his hand before he stabbed it into Jason’s leg. Jason howled in pain, flinging himself away from Ethan who rolled over, gasping and heaving. Ethan flailed, hurriedly grabbing for a gun and turned around, finger on the trigger and ready for the target. But Jason was gone. Ethan’s chest was on fire and he spat onto the floor, coughing harshly, feeling like he was going to throw up. He got to his feet and looked around for Jason, breathing heavily. His neck burned and the air going into his body was like fire. He felt like he was going to through up but could only dry heave.

Ethan breathed in deeply, then spat onto the floor, coughing roughly. He just had to find Jason. He had to kill that prick.

The Saviors had retreated up the hill, nursing wounds from their dysfunctional weapons. Ethan ran to Maggie’s side to see that they had finally overpowered the Saviors. She looked over at him, concerned by the redness in his face and the way his neck was looking ready to bruise.

“Ethan –”

He waved her off. “Jason’s a prick,” he said, and he sounded wheezy and discordant.

“Don’t shoot. Please,” Laura said, panting, gaining their attention. “We’re done. It’s over.” She got on her knees and nodded to the rest of the Saviors who soon followed her lead.

“Hey, Laura,” Ethan said roughly as she gave her gun over to him. It was broken and busted from the dodgy bullets Eugene had made. He was glad Eugene had done this. It worked well in their favour.

“Ethan,” Alden said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Ethan nearly flung himself on his friend, relieved to find him alive. “It’s nearly over.”

“Yeah. Let’s see Rick end it.” he said, and Alden looked at him in concern at the sound of his voice. “Jason. Choked me out a little.” He rubbed at his neck, and it felt tender and burned. Alden looked mad as he put his hand gingerly to Ethan’s neck, seeing how bad it was. He offered Ethan a wry smile, despite the blood on his lip and the forming of a bruise around his left eye. “What happened to you?”

“Just some prick. Thought he could take me on.” Alden let go of Ethan, but Ethan just wanted the reassurance of Alden, pressed against him to keep him sane.

Their group, with the now armless Saviors made their way to where they’d last seen Rick follow after Negan. The two were standing underneath a tree, talking. Ethan frowned, wondering what the fuck they could be talking about. And Ethan saw Rick slit Negan’s throat. His eyes went wide, and the breath got knocked out of him. Ethan barely felt the hand against his back. It was over. He realised he wanted his mom and Glenn and Abraham to be avenged.

 _Finally_.

But then Rick dropped the bloody weapon in his hand and turned to look at them as they got nearer. “Save him,” Rick said. Ethan thought his brain had stopped working. It felt like his body was about to go into shutdown.

“No. NO, he can’t. No, no he killed Glenn!” Maggie screamed as Michonne grabbed her. Siddiq had walked past to try and save Negan’s life. And then all feeling came back to Ethan’s body, fury hot in his blood.

“Bastard!” Ethan hissed and raised his bow as the anger coursed through him, only to be knocked to the side. The arrow went flying in the wrong direction and Ethan kicked Alden off him roughly. “Don’t you dare save him!” Ethan shouted as best he could, his voice breaking and horrible. He got up and grabbed his bow again as Maggie continued to cry and shout in anger and hurt. “He killed my mom!” It hurt to speak, let alone scream and shout like he was doing.

Alden moved in front of him, and the arrow Ethan had been aiming at Negan was in his face. “I ain’t movin’. Rick made his choice.” Alden had his hands up in surrender but was keeping his eyes level with Ethan’s. “We have to live with it.”

“ _Move,_ ” Ethan said darkly. His hands shook minutely. “He killed _Omma_. He’s basically killed Eli and he killed Glenn.”

“If you gotta kill him, then you gotta kill me,” Alden said. Tears burned at the back of Ethan’s eyes and ran down his face, much like how they were on Alden’s face. Ethan’s hands shook, his chin wobbled, and he tried to keep himself together. Fury and fear coursing through him. “I know it sucks, but that’s what’s been played.”

Ethan wasn’t sure how long had passed – maybe a second or a year – but then he lowered the bow before he threw it to the side and screamed. It sounded inhuman and nothing like Ethan. Alden moved forwards and wrapped him in a firm hug before he could do anything or hurt anyone else. His arms were trapped, and all he could do was manoeuvre them around Alden’s middle. Alden was saying something to him, but Ethan couldn’t hear him. Ethan’s ears were burning from the blood pounding through them and the fatigue from his adrenaline was taking affect.

He turned and looked at Rick, who had been speaking to the Saviors. He’d spoke of how the way Negan ruled was over, that anyone who could leave in peace and fairness and find common ground had the world by right. “You’re fucking full of shit, Rick Grimes!” he yelled, throat burning as the tears came to his eyes. “ _Fuck you_ ,”

“It’s gonna be alright,” Alden said, putting his hand to Ethan’s head, fingers in his hair. Neither of them listened to Rick, unable to believe what they had just witnessed. Ethan realised he couldn’t stop crying. He’d been so close to seeing his mother get avenged. And now he couldn’t. “I promise. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Negan’s supposed to die.” Ethan spat, disgust running through him as he pulled away. He sniffled and bit his lip, trying to keep himself together. Nearby, Maggie was crying. She’d nearly gotten her husband avenged. “He killed Omma. He killed Glenn and Abraham and he’s doomed Eli. Rick and Negan can go fuck themselves.”

Alden didn’t reply, just kept a firm arm around him, not wanting to risk Ethan going and killing Negan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carl pick up his bow for him. “Where did Jason go?” Alden asked, and Ethan knew he was trying to change the subject. Ethan shrugged, but it put him on edge. Jason had gotten away. Ethan thought that he’d finally manage to avenge those he had cared about, but it had all been torn apart by Rick fucking Grimes.

Then there was a gunshot, and someone fell to the floor, dead. Ethan and Alden turned around, hands holding each other tightly, and in the distance, they could see Jason. “Fuck.” The two spoke together. They saw him raise the gun again, but Ethan had pulled Alden down again, and Ethan landed roughly on Alden. Another shot and then some people screamed. Ethan was sure a Savior shouted curses to Jason.

“I’m gonna murder him,” Ethan said, but Jason was already running – right towards the huge herd they’d seen earlier.

“No way will he survive that,” Jesus said as he got closer to them, helping Ethan to his feet. “That’s the biggest herd any of us have ever seen. There’s no way.”

Beside them, Alden laughed without any humour. “You’ve clearly never met Jason before. Man could survive a nuclear bomb.”

Ethan laughed, but it sounded dry and somehow angry. “Fucker’s a cockroach; doesn’t fucking die.”

 

* * *

 

 

Aaron was there when they returned. He was holding Gracie in his arms, wrapped in that blanket of hers. And Ethan saw the way his face lit up when he saw him walk through the gates. Aaron looked so full of hope and happiness. But Ethan felt so mad and sad and more than what he could put into words that he just walked past Aaron and Gracie.

He couldn’t deal with family. Ethan reckoned he couldn’t deal with anything.

“What’s -?” he heard Aaron ask.

“Rick let Negan live,” Alden replied. “He’s back in Alexandria.”

Ethan kept walking.

He found himself sat between the graves once more. He hadn’t been to his mother’s grave in a while, hadn’t been to Glenn’s or Abraham’s either. He pulled his legs up to his chest and locked his arms around them. Ethan felt the burning in his eyes, and pulled his legs closer, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Negan’s alive,” he said to no-one in particular, and his voice didn’t sound as fucked as earlier. He hoped that maybe his throat hadn’t been so screwed over as he initially thought. Ethan’s body felt like it was going to explode with rage, and he was doing his best to keep himself together. “He killed you and he lives. After all the talk and promise of him being killed for what he did, and then he gets to _live_.” Ethan didn’t know how to end what he was saying, so he left it open ended. He laid down beside the grave and tried not to think about Siddiq saving Negan’s life. Sighing, Ethan looked at the clouds in the sky. It was a peaceful sky, unlike the storm Ethan felt. “Why does he get to live after everything?” he asked, but his voice came out so quietly he hadn’t heard himself speak.

It was a while before anyone approached him. He knew by the way the sky had dimmed, the air had gotten a little colder and his stomach ached for food. But he couldn’t go near anyone, so let them see if they could come to him. Ethan wished it was Enid or Alden, or maybe even Carl who would come and bring him back from whatever brink he was on.

“What’re you doing?” Aaron asked as he came and sat on the other side of Min-seo’s grave. Ethan hadn’t seen Aaron around the graves before. He wondered if Aaron had ever been to see his mom. He kind of hoped he had.

“Considering leaving,” Ethan said honestly. As much as Ethan wanted to stick around and see Maggie’s baby grow, he wanted to leave. He needed to find Eli, put an end to the mission that had been pushed back and back consistently. “I wish I’d never gone with you and Daryl,” he said, finally thinking about Eli and his mom. “I-I-I-I could’ve found Eli by now if I’d not gone with you. I’d have an answer. Maybe he’d be dead, and I would be too. Doesn’t seem that bad; Omma would be alive,” he smiled but he was crying. “But instead, I let his trail get cold, got her killed and don’t get to see her killer get what he’d had coming to him. So I wanna leave. I’m tired of this shit.”

Ethan paused for a moment and looked over Aaron and couldn’t find the energy to try and smile, to make it a stupid joke, make light of the bad shit he said. The tears were sudden, but he knew Aaron wouldn’t judge him. “He killed my mom. He shouldn’t be alive.” His voice was hurting, talking so much had put strain on the damage Jason had inflicted. But he needed to explain to Aaron. He couldn’t not talk to Aaron about it.

Aaron looked broken hearted. “You know taking vengeance against him won’t help. It won’t bring your mom back –”

“So why are you so fucking worked up about it?”

“Because fuck him, that’s why,” Ethan said, sitting up and looking at Carl. “You wouldn’t fucking like it if I said that about your mom, so don’t you dare talk to me like that ‘bout mine,” he said, and dusted himself up as he stood up. “I’m gonna go and not consider going and murdering Negan right now and pretend he’s already dead.” He walked away, but not before turning and looking back at Carl. “Be lucky I’m not gonna go kill your asshole father.”

He ignored whatever Aaron or Carl may have said, too angry to comprehend them. How could Carl eve dare say something like that to him?

Ethan wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but all he knew was that he somehow ended up in a room in Barrington with Enid. She tried to catch his eye, but he couldn’t help but stare at the floor. Her fingers gently pressed against his and then they were holding hands. He barely realised how much he was shaking, and he couldn’t tell if it was from rage or sadness.

“Ethan,” Enid said gently. She sounded like she’d been crying. “Uh, Maggie-Maggie told me what happened. What Rick did. Are-are you alright?”

“N-no,” he managed to say, the pain finally catching up with him. Ethan sniffled and looked at her. It hurt to talk, he sounded hoarse, voice going higher and lower in octaves as he spoke. “Asshole killed so many people, this war was-was supposed to put an end to that, an end to _him_. I just … I wanted my mom’s killer dead.”

Enid pulled him into a hug and let him sob into her. She didn’t complain when he held on too tight or accidentally dug his nails into her skin. Although he couldn’t hear it over the sounds of his own sobs, he could feel her own reverberating through to him. Enid kept him going, let him relieve himself of all the pent-up emotions. Ethan knew it probably should have been Carl there to help him, but the idea of Carl being there at that moment made Ethan’s skin crawl.

Neither of them knew how long they had stayed like that, but Enid recovered first. “You should get some sleep,”

“So should you,” he said, but it didn’t come out right.

Enid made a quiet laugh and the two sat on the bed in the room they were in. Ethan laid down first and then Enid followed, resting her head on his shoulder. They curled up around each other, and Enid’s long hair tickled the exposed skin on Ethan’s neck. In the morning, his neck would be black and blue. Enid tapped his upper arm and he let her take the hearing aids from his ears. The warm air was a sort of comfort on his ears. Enid lifted herself up to blow out the candle in the room before she laid back down.

Enid’s presence calmed Ethan down, letting him finally get all the sleep he needed.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan had slept for just over a day. Enid had left him only a handful of times; for food, seeing Maggie and going to the bathroom. She had told him that for the most part, she had slept by his side. Both of them had been a lot more tired than anticipated.

The amount of trust he had in Enid was kind of terrifying, but during the aftermath of the war, he preferred her company than Carl’s.

“Your neck looks bad,” she told him, opening the blinds. It looked like it was nearing midday, and Ethan shrugged in response to her sentence. Enid came and sat beside him on the bed, gently shifting Ethan’s head, seeing the extent of the bruising. “Don’t try and talk too much, it might strain your vocal cords.” Ethan nodded and offered her a salute. “How do you feel now?” she asked as she rested her hands on the sides of his neck that weren’t damaged.

Ethan shrugged, then gave her a thumbs down. “I’m tired,” he said. His voice sounded rough to his ears, raspy and ruined. He expected that his voice would awkwardly rise and fall in octaves before it was back to normal.

The change in Enid’s expression was instantaneous. “I spoke to Alden earlier, when I went for food; he’s good with your name and pronouns, by the way. He said you said something like that. When we thought you were infected. And you didn’t just mean from the-the lack of sleep,”

“I think everyone gets this kind of tired,” Ethan said. “Just … miss Eli a lot.”

“I know,” Enid said softly. She pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. She lingered for a second longer than usual and then pulled away. “Love you,” she said quietly, and Ethan had to read her lips to understand what she’d said.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

The two sat together for a few minutes longer, sitting in silence, their arms around each other loosely. Ethan ended up telling her he was going to leave and see if he could get some food. She let him go with a nod of her head.

When he got outside, he saw the sun was high up in the sky. Carl was at the blacksmiths, talking with Rick and Earl Sutton. Ethan didn’t go to them, knowing full well that he’d not keep his tongue around Rick. Instead, he went to where a woman, Bertie, was giving people rations.

“Morning,” she said, her voice kind and lightly teasing. “Heard you slept like a log. Enid’s been keeping an eye on you,” Bertie told Ethan as she picked out some of the rations for him. “And I’d like to tell you I’m sorry,”

Ethan looked up at her and looked at her properly for the first time. She was looking sincere, like she had a fraction of an idea as to what Ethan was feeling. “You and Maggie were the most eager to see Negan’s demise. It must be hard knowing how close you came.”

“Doesn’t matter. Might not stick around long enough to see him get what’s coming to him,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. Ethan still saw the way her expression changed. “Gotta find my brother. Wherever and whatever he could be.”

Bertie nodded, and Ethan moved and went and sat beside Alden. He was sitting on a pile of wood, deep in thought. “What’s on your mind?” Ethan asked as he nudged Alden as he sat.

Alden shrugged and looked at Ethan. “Your voice sounds so bad. But it is deeper. Deep voice suits you. And … I want to stay here,” he said. Ethan nodded and offered him the carrot he had in hand. Alden took it with a faint smile. “I want to stay here with _you_.” Alden reiterated, looking at Ethan. “Wherever you go, I’m goin’,”

“That’s nice of you.” Ethan said. It made Alden laugh. He bumped their shoulders together, light smile on his face.

“I want to ask and, y’know, confirm it with Maggie. But if you decide to leave Hilltop, I’ll go with you too.”

He took a bite out of the tomato Bertie had given him. “I think I’ll stay here. Or rather, keep coming back,” Ethan said, smiling at Alden. “What? You think I’m gonna stick around?”

Alden frowned at him. “But I thought you and Carl – oh.” Realisation dawned on Alden’s face. Ethan reckoned Alden knew more about it than Ethan did himself. “You’re still injured. You’re gonna get yourself killed out there.”

“Not killed me yet,” he said, and Alden scoffed.

“Keyword being _yet_. I know you’ve got damn good eyes and you’ll somehow track Eli down, but … your hearing is fucked. And we both know it’s getting worse.” Alden pointed his carrot at Ethan, who pushed his hand aside. “Your hearing is degrading, and your aids are looking worse for wear. You seriously think you can survive by yourself, deaf as fuck?”

“Alden, I …” Ethan pulled a leg up to his chest, wincing at the slight pain in his side. “I already told you that I’m fucking tired. Now that Negan’s as out of the way as he can be whilst alive. That means I gotta find Eli. Because of him, it all kept getting pushed back. Again and again and again. I can’t let Eli be out there any longer.”

His friend beside him sighed. “What about Jason?” he asked. Ethan’s stomach churned and the dread came back. “See, you’re still terrified of him. Hell, I am too! You can’t go out there by yourself. That guy’s a psychopath and he’ll stop at nothing to kill you,”

“So what?” Ethan asked quietly.

The silence that started between them was heavy.

“You did not just say that,” Alden said. The weight in his voice scared Ethan. He had never heard Alden sound so upset. “Y-yo-you have so many people who care about you. These people love you, Ethan. You seriously gonna get yourself killed out there just because?”

“No, it’s not _just because_. It’s because if I stay in here any longer, I might go insane. Eli’s been out there alone all this time. For months. And I don’t know if he’s alive. If he’s not –” Ethan cut off and looked away. “I just have to know. If he’s alive, then I’m never letting him out of my sight ever again.”

Ethan could feel the nerves radiating from Alden. “And what if you find him dead?”

“Then I guess I won’t come back,” he said. “I’ll bury him somewhere nice and go from there. Put Hilltop, Alexandria, the Kingdom and the Sanctuary in the rear-view mirror.” Ethan shut his eyes, resting his forehead on his knee.

“You don’t mean that,”

“Maybe I do. Won’t know until it happens.” Ethan saw Dwight get in the red truck with Daryl. He had an idea as to what Daryl was doing.  He almost wanted to say goodbye to him, even after the shit he’d put him through. “Hey, look you’ve got your chance to talk to Maggie,” he said, changing the subject.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Alden said as he got up with Ethan.

“Whatever. Go on,” Ethan said, pushing Alden by the back towards where Maggie was approaching. “Don’t be a chicken, she’s not scary.”

“Excuse me, Maggie?” Alden said, and Maggie looked at Ethan with a faint confused look. He offered her a smile despite the conversation he’d just had with Alden. “The guys are going back to the Sanctuary. Gonna try and make something else out of it. I don’t know. The thing is … I was never meant to be there. I should’ve been by Ethan’s side and I’m sorry I wasn’t. But I’ve been reading that book, _A Key to a Future_. I could build things. I can make some of that stuff real, for this place, for these people. It’s what I want to do with my life. And, no joke, you gave me that life so …” Alden looked at Maggie nervously.

“OK,” she said with a nod and a sort of smile before she moved past them and went into Barrington.

Ethan looked at his friend. “I think that went relatively well.”

“You know her better than I do, so I’ll take your word for it.” Alden said. Ethan started to take a few steps back and then Alden pointed a finger at him. “Hey, asshole, we need to finish that conversation.”

Ethan turned on his heel and walked off. Alden chased after him. Ethan ignored the looks of everyone else around them. He couldn’t deal with them.


End file.
